


Propinquity

by ThisWasInevitable



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crushes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fingerfucking, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Meeting the Family, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Rating will change, TAZ Amnesty, Trans Stern, Vaginal Sex, Verbal Humiliation, Vibrators, background indruck, but in a loving way, but not canon timeline, set within canon universe, sternclay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-02 08:57:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19195705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisWasInevitable/pseuds/ThisWasInevitable
Summary: One of the lovely folks on the Sternclay discord had a list of dream AUs, including a fake dating one. I asked my readers which one they wanted me to write, and fake dating was the definite favorite.The plan is simple: Stern has to go back home for a wedding. He needs a date. He and Barclay, the person he's closest to at the strange Amnesty Lodge, agree to pretend to be dating.What could possibly go wrong?





	1. Sweet Young Thing

"What is the strongest drink you can give me?”

Stern slumps onto a stool at the bar and Barclay looks at him with concern.

“Do you mean ‘straight shot of vodka’ strong or-”

“Yes that will do just fine.”

Barclay frowns as he gets a shot glass. Stern will drink the odd beer or glass of wine, but he’s never seen him drink anything harder. Or with such urgency. 

“Bad day?”

“No, actually, I made some progress talking to the sheriff”

(Motherfucker)

“But I got a rather unpleasant phone call.”

“Higher ups not happy with you?” 

“Worse.” Stern downs the shot. 

“Oh?” Barclay leans against the bar.

“My family. I completely forgot I have to attend my cousins wedding and my mother called to ask when I and my date are getting there.”

Barclay, in spite of himself, narrows in on that one detail.

“You got a date?”

Stern thunks his head against the bar with a groan.

“No, I do not. But I said I did to reassure her when I RSVPed, and if I show up solo after having said I had one it will be deeply, horrendously unpleasant.” He nudges the shot glass and Barclay refills it. 

“It’s not even that I don't; want to be at the wedding. I love my cousin, and I adore her wife to be. But I can’t just go for the day, I have to be there for over a week, and there will be so much _family_ ” the shot goes down “and so much scrutiny.” He pushes the glass again. Barclay slides him a glass of water instead, which he takes without argument. Grasps his hand before it leaves the glass.

“What am I going to do, Barclay?”

Barclay wishes he knew; Stern looks so upset, and Barclay hates it when that happens. He wants to see Stern happy, see him calm, see his smile and kiss him until he laughs…

“What about a fake date?” Aubrey pops around the door, followed by Dani (who is cradling Dr Harris Bonkers). 

“You mean I should hire someone?” He worries his lip until Dani puts the rabbit on the bar, at which point he toys with his ears. 

“No, like, find a friend or someone who’ll go with you and pretend to be your date. They do it all the time in movies. There has to be someone you could take who you’d be okay spending time with”

Barclay gives her a sideways glance. And then realizes with horror what she’s about to say when she winks at him. 

“Like, maybe Barclay could go with you.”

Stern looks at him, thoughtful. Then hope glitters in his eyes. 

“Would, would you be willing to come?”

“I, uh, I’d love to help you out but, uh” (he can’t say the truth, can’t say “I’m bigfoot” or “I have a raging crush on you”), “doubt Mama would let me have that much time off.” 

“Would you be willing to ask?”

He really should say no.

“Yeah, okay.”

There’s no way Mama will say yes.

\----------------------------------------------

“Honestly? Thinkin' this ain't a half-bad plan.”

“What!?” He’s loud enough that everyone else in the room (save Indrid) looks at him with concern and surprise. 

“He’s getting a little to close to certain trails” she looks pointedly at Ned, “gettin' him out of our hair for a week or so could help us cover some tracks.”

“But I don’t have to go for him to go!”

“Yeah, but if you do you could find out how much he knows. He talks to you more than anyone here, and we ain’t due for another abomination any time soon. Not to mention you got vacation time that you oughta use.” 

Barclay groans. Then he gets an idea.

“Indrid, back me up here. There’s no way this has good outcomes, right?”

“Hmmm? Oh, no, on the contrary most futures have a positive outcome if you do this” he looks up, lips quirking in a smirk, “nice try, though.”

Mama pats him on the shoulder, “pack your bag, you’re goin' on a roadtrip.”

\-------------------------------------------

The first days' drive is actually pretty pleasant. He does genuinely like Sterns company and finds him easy to talk to. They have to leave late in the afternoon, so Barclay can finish his last shift at the restaurant, meaning they’ll have to stop at a hotel before driving on in the morning.

For awhile they talk like normal, Stern speculating about the mystery series he’s reading and the two of them brainstorming what might work on the summer menu for the lodge.

They’re an hour away from their hotel when Stern shifts awkwardly in the drivers seat.

“We’ll need to come up with a story for how we met.”

“Can’t we just say we met while you were staying at the hotel? Or is the rest of your family as...persistent as you are when they want to know something?”

“The second one. Let’s say, hrm, that we got to talking during your slower shifts and then you, hmm or did I, let me see.”

“How about we say I invited you to come watch _Twin Peaks_ with me?”

“That’s what you did, though.”

Barclay shrugs.

“Easier to lie if there’s some truth to it. We’ll just say it was a romantic ask on my part rather than wanting someone to geek out with.”

(He won’t mention that the fact that the last two times they watched the show, he and Stern had forgone sitting with several feet between them on exchange for sitting shoulder to shoulder).

Stern nods, pleased, “clever, right, uh, they’re going to ask about first dates and things like that.”

“Picnic.” Barclay answers without thinking.

“Excuse me?”

“ _If_ I had asked you out on a date, it would’ve been a picnic.”

“Barclay, it was winter for half the time I’ve been there.”

“Then I would’ve shooed everyone out of the lodge lobby and had it by the fire.”

Stern is watching the road, but Barclay sees half a smile creep up his face. 

“With food you cooked yourself?”

“Of course. Woulda made something nice and simple, something you like off the menu, plus dessert.”

“That should do nicely.” There’s a faint blush on his cheeks. But maybe that’s his imagination. 

“Our first kiss was at the end of that date, I’ve just decided.” He sounds so matter-of-fact that Barclay chuckles. 

“Didn’t even make me wait for the third date?”

“Not a chance.” Stern flashes him a genuine grin. Then it disappears. 

“You realize, of course, we’ll have to also act like a couple in front of them. Including the, uh, physical aspects.”

“As long as you don’t find the idea of me putting an arm around you or holding your hand too off-putting, we should be fine.”

“I don’t.” Comes the soft reply. 

That settled, they turn their attention towards fighting with Sterns GPS to get to the hotel. Once they’re checked in, Stern collapses into his bed and Barclay into the one beside it. 

Barclay sleeps like the dead, comes to with the sound of running water in his ears. The clock reads 5:30 am, neon lime glow making him squint in the still-dark room. It’s then he notices he’s had the misfortune to wake up with morning wood. He's not worried, it usually goes away fast as long as he ignores it or doesn’t run into anything that encourages it. 

The bathroom door swings open and Stern steps out, brushing his teeth, towel wrapped around his waist. 

Whelp, Barclay’s gonna just stay here for a sec. Or at least until he can stop thinking about yanking the towel off and pushing Stern against the wall. 

This is going to be a long trip.

\---------------------------------------------

They’re nearly to Madison when Sterns phone begins ringing. Since he’s driving, Stern waves at Barclay to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Uh, Lucky?” It’s a woman on the other end, sounding worried.

“No, he’s driving. This is Barclay.”

“Ohhhh, the boyfriend. Okay, phew. Where are you two?”

“Tell her we’re almost at the beltline and we’ll be there in under an hour.”

“I heard that! Hi little brother! Drive safe!” She’s gone with a click. 

“That was Mary, my oldest sister. She always calls slightly before I get there because she worries.”

“Your middle sister is?”

“Lily.”

“Mary, Lily, got it.” Barclay figures he should at least try to pass as someone who learned the details of Sterns family more than 48 hours ago. 

They pass between two lakes, turn towards the East. Pull up beside a huge house. 

“Aren’t we checking in at the hotel first?” 

Sterns brow furrows as he unbuckles his seatbelt. 

“Oh no, I didn’t fill you in on that part, did I? Barclay, we’re not staying at a hotel, we’re staying at my moms place. Lots of my family is.”

Barclay gulps, nerves shooting through the roof of the car and off into space. 

One Stern, inquisitive and persistent (and, in Lucky's case, handsome), he can handle.

But a house full of them? Not so much.


	2. The Kind of Guy I Could Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barclay gets a crash-course in the Family Stern.

Stern puts his hand on the front door. Takes a deep breath. Barclay rests a hand comfortingly on his shoulder, which he makes no move to shrug off. 

“Right, here we go.” He opens the door, sending a cacophony of greetings and ambient shouting into the street. 

“Lucky!”

“Baby bro, there you-”

“So worried you’d gotten delayed around Chi-”

“Aww, you’re wearing the shirt.” The last comment comes from a young-ish woman with streaks of blue and silver through her otherwise dark hair. Behind her stands a tall woman who looks like the classic interpretation of a Valkyrie, but with more tattoos. They both smirk at Sterns shirt, which contains the famous Bigfoot image from the Patterson- Gimlin footage (fakers) done in the style of Van Gough. 

“Gwen” Stern smiles and hugs the shorter woman, “I’m so happy for you two.” He waves over her shoulder at the blonde. Okay, so that makes them the brides-to-be. The two woman who’d both yelled as soon as Stern entered the room and have eerily similar mannerisms to Barclays “boyfriend” have to be Sterns older sisters. 

And he’s going to go ahead and guess the older woman currently scanning him over with a no-nonsense glare is his mother. He clutches their luggage tight like a shield.

There’s an ear-splitting shriek of joy that morphs into the words, “Uncle Lucky!”

With what’s clearly a practiced motion, Stern reaches down just in time to intercept the young girl hurling herself at his legs and sweep her up into his arms.

“There’s my favorite niece!” He gives her a twirl and she giggles. Then a pair of small, perceptive eyes settle on Barclay.

“Who are you?” The eyes narrow.

“That’s Barclay, Ellie, he’s my boyfriend.” 

Barclay waves as Stern sets his niece back on the ground. She steps in front of Barclay, nearly tipping over to look up at him. He’s about to kneel down when she gives a serious, satisfied nod. 

“Okay.” 

With that, she scurries off into another room. 

“Well, big guy, guess you pass muster.” Gwen gives him a thumbs up just as Stern seems to realize he needs to act like Barclay is someone he wants everyone to meet. He guides him carefully through introductions, and Barclay manages to shake hands and say “hello” and “nice to meet you” by pretending this is just a group of Sylphs who’ve arrived at the lodge. 

Finally, he sees his chance for escape.

“Hey, uh, babe?” 

Stern turns instantly.

“Where should I put our stuff?”

“Upstairs, third door on the right.” Mary points at the staircase and he dips his head in thanks, clomps up the stairs, and fumbles the door open.

He finds himself in what has to be Sterns former bedroom. 

The walls are dotted with posters, mainly for the X-Files, Twin Peaks, and different cryptid-based attractions (Roswell, The Mothman Museum, etc). The bookshelf on the wall looks to have been cultivated with guests in mind, but as Barclay sets the bags down on the bed he spies some familiar titles-

Wait a moment. Bed. Singular. 

He groans. How could he have been so clueless? Of _course_ they’d have to share a bed, as far as everyone is concerned they’re a couple, It’s big enough for the two of them, but not big enough to offer them any space to avoid touching each other. 

It’s not that he hasn’t dreamed about this exact scenario. But those fantasies are him and Stern falling asleep in his bed at the lodge, menu screen for twin peaks dying into silence, leaving just the two of them in dark, safe in each others arms.

“Not as bad as I thought it would be.” Stern steps through the door, shutting it quietly, “I was worried she’d left all my art and posters and such up.” 

“This isn’t all of them?” Barclay arches an eyebrow.

“Not remotely. I had postcards from every vaguely paranormal place I went, movie posters, and some, uh, art.”

“You draw?”

“Not nearly as well as your friend.”

“Wouldn’t compare yourself to Indrid, he’s had a lot of time to practice.” Barclay begins unpacking his clothes, hangs up Sterns suit beside his own in the closet. He spots Stern staring at the bed with the same expression that was likely on Barclays own face when the agent walked in. 

“I could sleep on the floor.” Barclay offers. He’s slept on the ground lots of times, and there’s no way in hell he’d kick Stern out of his own bed.

“No need. I don’t mind a bit of awkwardness, assuming you’re fine with it as well.”

“Yep. Sorry if I, like, snore or crowd the bed. Been awhile since I slept with anyone.”

Stern snorts.

“Barclay, I once spent two nights in one hundred degree weather with five people in a tent meant for two on stake-out. It takes a lot to make me unable to sleep.”

“Jesus.”

“Chupacabra sighting. Honestly, why don't people know what a coyote looks like…”

He regales Barclay with the story as they unpack, before sneaking down to grab slices of the pizzas Mary ordered because, “everyones' so tired from being on the road, I figured you’d like to just graze before bed.”

But all too soon, they’re standing at the side of the bed and the awkwardness is pouring off them in waves.

“Do you...have a side you prefer?” Asks Stern. 

“Left?”

“Works for me.” Stern steps into the bathroom (his pay-off, many years ago, for letting his sisters have the bigger rooms was to get the small one with a private bathroom), returns a few minutes later in his pajamas. Matching, as always. Barclay feels under-dressed in his boxers and “Keep Kepler Weird” shirt.

Cautiously, they slide under the covers. 

“Goodnight, Barclay.”

“Night.”

\----------------------------------------------

Barclay wakes up relieved to find he didn’t start spooning or cuddling Stern during the night. Instead, he’s treated to the sight of Stern, still sound asleep, rolled on his side towards him, fists limply curled in the sheets and hair a mess. 

He showers, steps out to find Stern hasn’t stirred. Follows the smell of coffee downstairs. The pot is full, but no one is around. He sorts through the cabinets for mugs, pours a black coffee for himself and one that turns tan from cream for Stern. 

Footsteps.

“Morning!” Mary smiles, looks approvingly at the two mugs. Then her gaze snaps back to him. 

“So, you and my brother, huh?” 

“Is this the part where you tell me if I break his heart they’ll never find my body?” 

“Pfft, no.” She smiles at him again, grabs a mug, “my little brother is a grown man. He can handle himself. All I care about is that he’s found someone who makes him happy and who treats him right.”

She takes a sip.

“Lily, however, will kill you if you hurt him.”

“Good to know. Uh, better get this upstairs before it gets cold.”

He makes it back to the room just as Stern is sitting up with a yawn. Barclay holds out the mug.

“You’re a lifesaver.” Stern takes it, sips with pleased hum, “perfect. How are you so perfect?” He looks at him sleepily before grasping what he just and Barclays cheeks are now on fire. 

“I, ahem, mean at making coffee.”

“Uh, yeah, uh, practice, I guesssowhat do you want to do today?”

Stern takes another sip, letting out a soft, content sound that Barclay wishes he could make him make all the time.

“I’m so glad you asked.” He reaches into his wallet on the bedside table, “I’ve prepared a list.”

Sterns list takes up most of their day, criss-crossing them around the city in search of (among other things) a wedding gift, ties in the color meant for Gwen's side of the family, and wine for a belated hostess gift. He insists on taking Barclay for dinner at a place that has some of the best ramen Barclays had in years. He’s got a hunch that Stern is trying to avoid a more formal family dinner where the two of them can be interrogated for as long as humanly possible. Barclay's not going to complain, not when Stern is sitting across from him in the low mood lights of the restaurant, delightedly talking about food. 

“I’ve tried to recreate this at home, but it never tastes right no matter what I do.” Stern slurps down a noodle with a noise that Barclay finds more erotic than he cares to admit. 

“Might be something as basic as the, like, brand of miso you use.” He sips broth from the spoon, trying to pinpoint flavors. A bonus of having a strong sense of smell and taste, courtesy of his Sylph-self, is that he’s got an incredibly accurate palate. 

“That hadn’t occurred to me. Perhaps I’ll steal your kitchen late some night to experiment.”

“Any time, long as you clean up after yourself.”

Stern balks.

“Of course I do. If I didn’t, I’m fairly certain the ghost of my grandmother would appear to shame me. Plus, I find cleaning rather soothing.”

“Man after my own heart.” Barclay raises his glass. 

“Indeed.” Stern murmurs, raising his own and clinking them together. 

The evening is considerably warmer than the last as they walk back to the family house and climb into bed. Hot enough that when Barclay wakes up sweating and half-asleep in the middle of the night, he tugs his shirt off and tosses it away without a second thought before dropping back to sleep.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stern blinks awake the next morning to a not unwelcome surprise: Barclay, sprawled on the bed next to him sans shirt. He takes a moment to admire the view. After all, stealing glances at his truly appealing form is much harder in close proximity, since it increases the odds of being caught. The larger man might catch on to Sterns raging crush on him, one Stern is fairly certain he doesn’t reciprocate. If he does, surely he’d have said something by now. Stern isn’t ready to confess and then lose the...whatever it is going on between them. Mutual fondness, perhaps, of friendly affection.

Barclay makes a small, huffed, yip-snore and Stern smiles.

It really was incredibly kind of him to help Stern like this. And he’s been endlessly patient meeting relatives and soothing Sterns free-floating anxiety around familial obligations. Stern ought to do something in return.

(Other than the filthy compensation his imagination is currently suggesting).

By the time Barclay wakes up, Stern has the perfect plan.

\------------------------------------

“Taking me somewhere classified, agent?” Barclay teases, though he keeps his eyes closed as instructed.

“Somewhere you’ll like.” He pulls Barclay around a corner, carefully guiding him through the crowds. Leans his lips as close to his ear as he dares.

“Open your eyes.”

Barclays eyes pop open and he nearly squeals with delight, a singularly adorable sound. Before them is a massive farmers market, encompassing the entire square around the capital building. 

“It’s _beautiful_.” He whispers, then he’s grabbing Sterns hand and eagerly pulling him into the throng. The next hour is spent with the larger man giddily leading him through the square, until they’re overladen with baked goods, produce, and cheese. 

They find a spot on the lawn to sit down, and Barclay leaves no distance between them as he settles on the grass.

“Try this” piles strawberries onto bread with cheese and without hesitation he opens his mouth so Barclay can feed it to him.

“Ohhhh.” 

Barclay beams. 

“Okay, try this.” He pulls out a pocket knife, puts together another sandwich. 

Stern has built up years of suspicion, of wariness when it comes to letting people touch him or get physically close to him. But he leans into Barclays movements, accepts each bite he offers. Each time Barclay laughs, he dreams of running his fingers down his neck.

It’s in these moments, the warm spring air surrounding him and the sun catching the copper in Barclays dark hair, that Stern can almost believe this is real. That it’s almost like they belong together. 

That it’s almost like they’re in love. 

\-----------------------------------------

Barclay hasn’t had such an unabashedly wonderful day in a long time. After the surprise of the market, he coaxed Stern into showing him around downtown and the campus that wound through the city. The more he listened to Sterns stories about growing up, about college (“not gonna say they were your glory days, are you?” “Good lord, no”) the more he realizes two things. First, Stern has never been anything less than driven and ambitious, never been anything less nerdy and curious. And the second thing?

The second thing is that Barclay is falling for him faster than an anvil in an old cartoon. He’s moving from crush to full-on infatuation. Which means he’s trying his damnedest to not read too much into the friendly touches passing between them: playful shoulder bumps, hands that linger on arms more than they need to. 

But for all his trying, when Stern is walking, hands in pockets, Barclay can't resist and slips an arm through Sterns, savoring the contact between their skin. 

They walk like that all the way back to the house. On the porch, a new voices reaches them and Stern goes rigid. Barclay’s seen the man in some tough spots, but he’s never looked this full of dread.

“What’s wrong? You look like you just saw, like, Batsquatches ghost.”

Stern shakes his head.

“That would be preferable to what’s waiting inside. It’s my uncle.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Bangs fist on table   
> Tropes, Tropes, Tropes!
> 
> Next up: A family meal and a confession.


	3. This Just Doesn't Seem to be My Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barclay and Stern something more terrifying than any abomination: Family dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick content notes  
> 1) It's implied Sterns uncle doesn't fully respect the fact he's trans. There is no deadnaming, misgendering, or slurs, but he makes a seriously dickish comment.  
> 2) Stern is shown to be drinking more than is wise to get through dinner in one piece.

Barclay can tell when a group of people is working to keep one person away from another. Hell, the lodge has done that more than once, usually with Stern and him (or Stern and Duck). And that is exactly what the majority of the Stern household is doing with Lucky and his uncle (Rick). 

In the midst of this familial dance of avoidance, the phone rings. Mary answers then looks up, confused. 

“Uh, Barclay? It’s for you.”

He takes the phone, wanders into a quiet corner of the back patio.

“Hel-?”

“-I thought you might appreciate some updates on the futures.”

“Indrid, how the fuck did you get this number?”

“I have my ways. Now, there are two things to keep in mind if you wish for things to go well during the next few days. The first is that at dinner tonight, it will be best if you’re truthful about how you feel about Agent Stern. And before you protest, I do not mean you should reveal the fact that you’re not even dating him. Simply that you’re going to be asked your opinion of him. The second factor should come into play tomorrow.”

“And that would be?”

“The small child, the one Stern is fond of. Odds are high you’ll be asked to spend time with her. I suggest you agree to do so.”

“Got it.” He glances over his shoulder to find Stern in the doorway, looking concerned. 

“I’m a bit envious, small children are such fun. Plus, they handle you turning into a moth with nowhere near as much fuss as adults do.”

“That’s, uh, great? Buddy, but I should-”

“I wonder if Duck wants children?”

There’s a noise in the background on the other end of the line that is unmistakably Duck choking on a drink.

“Bye.” Barclay clicks the phone off in a hurry. 

“Everything alright?” Stern offers his hand to lead him back inside.

“Yeah, just someone from the lodge letting me know the kitchen hadn’t burnt down.”

“Is that concern?” Stern seems amused.

Barclay thinks about the group of people involved.

“Yes.”

They sit down around the immense table to eat dinner, joined by the rest of the family, Rick included. Stern downs half his wine glass before the lasagna even reaches him. 

“So, Barclay, how did you start cooking?” Gwen asks right before Rick opens his mouth.

“Picked it up when I was younger. I was kind of a nomad for awhile, and kitchens are one of those places where you can find work, even if it’s just washing dishes. So I washed dishes, and then I prepped, and then I learned how to cook more and more stuff. Ran into Mama, who owns the lodge, when I was in West Virginia and she needed a cook. Been there ever since.”

“You didn’t grow up in the south?”

“Nope, started out life on the west coast.”

“That explains some things, then.” Rick chimes in.

“Such as?” Barclay sips his water as Stern downs the second half of his glass. 

“Thought it was kinda surprising Lucky’d found another gay guy in the south. Let alone one who can deal with his whole” he gestures in a circle at Stern, “situation. You being from California probably helps.”

Barclays about to point out that there’s no reason someone from the south would be more bothered by Sterns job than someone from the west. Then he catches the set of Sterns jaw, the fact he’s looking down. It’s not his job Rick is referring to. 

“Assumed a ‘guy’ like Lucky wouldn’t attract anything but trouble down there.”

Barclay loops his arm over Sterns shoulders, looks at him fondly.

“What can I say? Cute guy hangs around my restaurant every day and compliments my cooking, I’m gonna have a hell of a time not getting a crush on him.”

Stern gives him a grateful smile, squeezes the hand resting on his shoulder. 

“Aww, always knew you were a charmer.” Lily teases and Stern laughs.

“I wasn’t the one with guys writing me love songs during high school.” He shoots a smirk at his sister, who groans and thunks her head on the table. 

“Ohmygod, I forgot about that.” Mary laughs into her wine glass. 

“You brought it up, _you_ explain it” Lily points dramatically in Luckys direction, and the conversation mercifully turns to various high school misadventures, which turns into catching Lucky up on which classmates are now married, have kids, or are in jail. They make it all the way to dessert before Rick volleys another question at Barclay.

“So, Barclay, are you a true believer?”

“Dad” Gwen hisses at the same time Lucky finishes his fourth glass of wine in one go. 

“I'm not sure I get what you mean?”

“Do you think the things Lucky spends all his time chasing are real?”

The safe answer is no. That’d be in line with what he’s insisted ever since Stern arrived at the lodge.

“I think…” 

(He’s thinking alright, and he’s thinking _fast_ )

“I think Lucky’s got the right idea.”

Stern looks side-long at him, surprised. 

“Really? So you think there’s something to be found chasing after aliens or giant moths or... bigfoot” the look he gives Stern on that last word, dripping in mockery, makes Barclay want to take off his bracelet just to prove the guy wrong. 

“I think there are lots of things in the world that people don’t know about.” He pushes Stern a glass of water rather than the wine bottle he’s staring at, “and I think there are certain people who have a real talent for tracking them down, people who are smart enough to spot a fake but open minded enough to see when something is real. Lucky is one of them.” He rubs a hand fondly down Sterns arm, feels him softly, sharply inhale, though whether that’s from the touch or his words he’s not sure. His uncle doesn’t look convinced. So Barclay presses on.

“You ask me, there are lots of places for cryptids to hide. Hell, there are spots in the Manoghela that probably no human has set foot in for years.” 

(Too close to home, he needs to change tactics).

“And that’s before you even get to oceans and, like, deep lakes. Gotta be things in there no one’s found yet.”

“Oh yeah, Lucky knows all about those creatures doesn’t he?” 

Stern stiffens under his arm. Barclay slips it away form his shoulders, takes his hand instead, feels the pulse fluttering there. 

“To hear him tell it, he barely escaped a brush with one.”

Stern abruptly stands, wobbles. 

“I am, hic, not going to sit here and re, re-hash something traumatic just so you can poke fun at it. I am, hic, going to bed. Goodnight everyone.” He turns on his heel, and Barclay hears the beginnings of Rick being torn a new one by several women in the family as he follows Stern up to his room. 

The agent is face down on the bed. Barclay gingerly sits next to him

“Stern?”

“Don’t wanna, hic, talk, hic, about it.” His voice is muffled by the pillows.

“Fine by me. Need some space?”

“No s’fine, wanna go to sleep.” At least his hiccups have stopped.

“That’s fine, too. I’m gonna get ready for bed.” He heads into the bathroom, changes, brushes his teeth. Comes out to find Stern in the exact position he left him. 

“Bathrooms all yours.”

“No need, gonna sleep like this.”

“Stern, you should at least change.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Don’t tell me being in your old room is sending you back to your moody teen years.”

Stern rolls over, glares at him, attempts to slip his shirt over his head only to get stuck halfway and drop back onto the bed.

“Can’t do more, full of wine and anger.”

Barclay shakes his head with a laugh, hooks his fingers under the hem of the shirt and pulls it up and off, Stern sitting up only long enough for its removal before flopping back down. Which leaves Barclay leaning over his half-naked form. 

The smaller man, seemingly unbothered by their proximity, tugs at the button on his jeans. He makes several failed attempts before turning a drunken pout on Barclay.

“You, uh, need me to help you out there too?”

A sleepy nod. 

Barclay scoots down the bed, resting on his left arm while his right undoes the button and zipper, head hovering above Sterns navel. 

He has heard many times in his life, often from people like Janelle or Vincent, that the right thing and the easy thing are seldom the same. Never has he felt the truth of that platitude more sharply. Because it would so painfully easy to lower his mouth and plant a row of kisses from one of Sterns hips to the other. Easy to shift the jeans off little by little, kissing each inch of skin as it’s exposed until Stern arches into his touch and opens himself to him.

An easy thing, but not the right one. Not when Stern is drunk and sleepy and clearly trying to tamp down a painful memory or two. Not when they’re just pretending they’re together.

Instead, Barclay tugs at the jeans with limited success.

“Gonna have to help me out a little, babe.”

Stern huffs but complies, wiggling out of them as Barclay pulls them down and off. By the time he’s tossed them into the waiting hamper and settled onto his side of the bed, Stern is asleep and he quickly follows suite. 

He’s awoken some time later by the unmistakable pain of being kneed in the stomach. His eyes fly open, hands halfway to his bracelet before he remembers where he is and understands what’s happening. 

Stern must has wrapped himself around Barclay while they slept, and the agent is now thrashing violently as broken, frightened sounds come from his throat. He’s gripping the sleeve of Barclays shirt so hard it might tear. 

Narrowly avoiding yet another knee, Barclay places his hands on the other mans shoulders to hold him in place. Shakes him as gently as he can while whispering his name. On the fifth, increasingly urgent repetition of “ Stern” the agents eyes open. They’re wild and panicked, but he only gets a brief glimpse of them before Stern presses his face against his chest, gasping. 

“Sorry, fuck, it’s, it’s” The alcohol clearly isn’t all the way out of his system.

“Shhh, don’t worry about explaining. Focus on calming down.” 

Stern shudders against him, gasping even as he clearly tries to breathe evenly. 

“I can’t, it was there, it _had_ me.”

“Try to breathe with me, okay?” He takes a deep breath and Stern mimics him, holding it until Barclay exhales. He repeats the cycle for minute or so, until Stern no longer sounds like he’s dying. He doesn’t know where to go from here, doesn’t know if he should ask about the dream, or should let Stern fall asleep. He does know that he’s not letting go unless Stern asks him too.

“One of my first missions. It was at a lake near the Canadian border. Not a famous one by any stretch of the imagination, but it had many credible, unexplained disappearances.” He’s addressing Barclays chest, as if he’s afraid to look at him, “I was on the lake alone, still in my diving gear, something hit my boat, kept hitting it until I fell over the side. Then there was this dark head with yellow, reptilian eyes moving towards me and it dove and then, then I was screaming underwater. I couldn’t see, couldn’t breath, I just knew it had me and I, I, blacked out, woke up on the deck of the boat with other agents around me.”

“Jesus.”

“I had on dive armor, because I didn’t want to take any chances. It’s the only reason I have this” he indicates a jagged scar on his side, “instead of being dead at the bottom of a lake.”

Barclay runs a hand down his back, brushes his thumb into the hair at the base of Sterns neck. 

“Do you know what the worst part is?” He finally meets Barclays eyes. The larger man shakes his head. 

“No one believes me. Even in the department, they think it was a massive pike or something. They think I’m exaggerating.” A bitter laugh “some paranormal investigators, huh?”

“I believe you.” 

“Barclay, please don’t patronize me.” There’s no bite to the words.

“I’m _not_. I believe you. And I’m glad you’re still here.”

Stern gives a deep exhale, seems to finally notice the extent to which he and Barclay are entangled. 

“Can I stay like this?”

Barclay simply nods, lets Stern settle closer until he’s cuddles against him, more relaxed than he was even a few moments before. 

“Thank you.” He whispers.

Barclay rests his chin atop Sterns head, fiddles with his hair.

“Any time, Lucky. Any time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to borrow the "Stern has work related nightmares" from an earlier prompt fill because I liked the idea.
> 
> Next up: Barclay gives Stern flowers.


	4. Going Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barclay and Stern come to some realizations.

Barclay has always preferred to show love through actions rather than words. He shows love for Mama by being the person she confides in, bringing her tea when it’s two am and she still refuses to sleep because there are things that need doing. He shows it for Dani, Aubrey, and Jake by cooking for them.

(And for Duck and Indrid by pretending to lose the keys to the Winnebago after fixing it so Indrid had an excuse to stay Ducks apartment).

So it makes perfect sense, that next morning, to show his love for Stern by retrieving coffee, water and aspirin so that his “boyfriend” doesn’t have to deal with any family members while slightly hungover. 

It is only when he’s halfway up the stairs that he realizes this is what he’s doing. 

He slips back into the bedroom, puts the glasses and painkillers on the nightstand, smiles when he sees Stern has tugged the blankets over his head. 

“Too sunny.”

Barclay closes the blinds.

“Still too sunny.” Stern groans. 

“Unless you got a sleep mask, this is as dark as it’s getting. Or I could put a tie around your eyes.” The double-meaning of that statement catches up to him and he coughs awkwardly. Stern eventually sits up, sips his coffee, and accepts Barclays offer of laying low and reading in bed until most of the family is up and out for the day. Stern doesn’t mention the incident in the middle of the night, and Barclay doesn’t press him on it. 

They finally decide the coast is clear and that they can scurry out to lunch.

“Lucky, oh thank god.” Lily rounds the corner, Ellie in tow, “I know it’s last minute but I need a favor: can you and Barclay watch Ellie for a few hours? We’ve had a crisis with the caterer and I promised I’d help sort it out.”

Barclay's nodding before Stern even looks at him to confirm it’s okay.

“Say no more, I’d be happy to spend some quality time with my favorite girl.” Ellie dashes over, hugging his legs. 

“You’re a life saver little bro, Ellieyoubegoodokaybye!”

“Have you have lunch, my little nightcrawler?” 

“Nope!”

“Perfect. We’re taking Barclay to Blue Plate, how does that sound?”

Ellie considers the question with a serious air.

“Can I have a milkshake?”

Stern smiles down, ruffles her hair “of course.”

The restaurant is a bit of a walk, their journey broken up by Ellie's demands that the two men swing her up off the ground between them as they go. By the time they slide into the blue leather booths, Barclay has learned the finer points of My Little Pony as well as why moths are better than butterflies, and why the Loch Ness Monster is better than Tahoe Tessie. 

(“That your influence there, ‘uncle Lucky?” “I only bought her the one book on cryptids.”)

“What are you thinking, tiny Yeti?” Stern considers the menu, thigh bumping Barclays own.

“Don’t wanna be a Yeti” Ellie looks sourly up from her menu “Wanna be a Bigfoot. They’re better.”

Barclay fights back of squeak of delight.

“How so?” Stern asks, with genuine curiosity. He’s yet to speak to Ellie in a baby voice, which makes Barclay all the fonder of him. 

“He’s helpful, helps lost campers and hikers. I read it in my book.” She points at her menu, “I want grilled cheese.”

“Noted. Milkshake?”

“Chocolate, please.” 

They order, Stern getting the pot pie and Barclay finding it impossible to resist the fancy burgers on offer. He notices Stern eyeing the milkshake section as well. Nudges him with his elbow.

“Split one with ya.” 

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Barclay spends the next forty minutes alternately feeling like a doting uncle (when Ellie has his attention) and an awkward teenager (when he and Stern go for the milkshake at the same time). As they head back towards the house, they decide on a detour to one of the small neighborhood playgrounds so Ellie can run about. Barclay sits with his arm around Sterns waist as she does, and he directs several unkind thoughts at Sterns phone when it rings and the other man stands up and walks a ways away to answer it.  
\---------------------------------

The phone call turns out to be Mary calling from work, sounding extremely harried as she explains that there’s been an emergency at work that requires her attention and she has no idea how she’ll manage getting a house full of family fed while also helping Lily, Gwen, and Nat (Gwen's fiancee) with an errand after work.

Stern is only half-listening, because at the same time she’s talking Ellie has settled on the ground beside Barclay and is determinedly showing him how to make a daisy chain (or, in this case, a dandelion chain). And Barclay’s smiling, cheerfully following her instructions and letting her slot a few flowers into his beard and hair and Stern is hurtling towards a new kind of attraction to the man with terrifying speed. 

Still, he hates seeing his sister so stressed.

“What if Barclay and I took care of dinner? I’m sure we can come up with something.”

“Oh would you? That’d help so much, Lucky.”

“Consider it done.” He says goodbye, turns back towards the playground to find Barclay only a few steps ahead of him, holding a large loop of flowers.

“I’ve been told I have to give this to you.” He grins, slips the flowers over Sterns head, and when their eyes meet Barclay’s have a glint to them that Stern hasn’t seen before, “according to Ellie I can’t really be your boyfriend unless I give you flowers.”

“Best not to argue with her.” He takes Barclays hand to walk back towards his niece, but Barclay brings it up to his lips for a kiss.

"Guess I'm really your boyfriend now." He murmurs before dropping their joined hands back down between them. 

The butterflies in Sterns stomach invent a new dance style, and it tells him one thing: he’s in deep, deep trouble. And he needs to do something about ti

\---------------------------------------------------

Barclay is in his element, humming to himself as he tends the grill in the Stern family backyard. He and Lucky had decided on brats and grilled peaches for dinner, simple enough to do but a crowd-pleaser all the same. The family is spread out in the yard (the unpleasant uncle giving the two of them a wide berth due in no small part to Barclay drawing up to his full height whenever the man so much as looks at Stern), chatting and laughing. 

Once the cooking is done, he and Stern sit on a wicker love seat across from Gwen, Nat, Lily, and her husband. Barclay drapes his arm over Sterns shoulder and has to keep from sighing with delight when the other man relaxes into the touch. 

“So,” Gwen arches an eyebrow at Barclay, “what are you two getting up to once you head back?”

Barclay shrugs, “The usual, I guess. Work for both of us. Though, if I can get Mama to give me a few extra days off, we could take a weekend and go somewhere. Kinda like traveling with you.” It feels natural, in that moment, to turn and kiss Sterns cheek. 

Something shifts in the air between them, even as Stern smiles at him and continues talking. 

Indeed, he doesn’t get to find out what the shift is until they’re in the bedroom later that night. Stern sits on the bed as he digs through his suitcase for a book, and then the other man takes a deep breath.

“I can’t do this anymore, Barclay.”

When Barclay turns to look at him, his lips are set in a thin line and his eyes are resigned.

“I think you need to leave.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Stern gives some commands.


	5. Good Clean Fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barclay and Stern reach some conclusions. And some...other things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I tagged this verbal humiliation, as Stern sort of mocks/scolds Barclay for being needy or desperate during sex, but it's clear this is something they both want and enjoy.

Barclay turns back to the closet with deep exhale. He wants to stay with every fiber of his being. But if Stern wants him to go? Then he’ll go. He begins pulling his shirts off hangers, hoping that busying his hands will keep him from breaking where Stern can see him. 

“Guess we’ll say I, uh, needed to go back for work. An emergency.”

“That will work nicely.” Sterns voice is tight.

“I’m sorry, by the way, know I’m rusty on the whole dating thing so if I wasn’t much of a boyfriend-”

“Don’t” 

He turns to look at Stern again, finds him sitting ramrod straight and resolutely not looking at him.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. Quite the opposite.”

Barclay’s heart may have stopped, he’s not sure, he’s too busy waiting to see if Stern will say anything else. 

“I can’t, that is, pretending that we’ll still have this” he gestures back and forth between them “when we go back is too painful. Having you pretend to care about me the way I care about you is just too much.” He stands, makes to pace back and forth but freezes as soon as Barclay speaks.

“How long?”

“What do you mean?” He takes a step closer.

“How long have you felt that way about me?” Barclay reaches for his hand and he gives it absentmindedly.

“Months.”

Barclay suddenly pulls him close, releases his hand to bring both of his own to that perfect face and guide him into a kiss. Any surprise Stern feels is short lived, as he returns the kiss without hesitation, fists his hands into the front of Barclays shirt. When he finally breaks the kiss, Barclay keeps their foreheads pressed together. 

“Funny, that’s about how long I’ve had a huge fucking crush on you.”

“Were you, at any point, planning to enlighten me about that fact?”

“Er, not unless I was really, really sure you felt the same way.”

Stern kisses him softly, first on the mouth and then out across his cheek and jaw and Barclays whole body goes electric from the gentle contact.

“To think, we could have had this months ago if we weren’t so damn careful.”

“Guess we better make up for lost time.” One, perfect ear is near Barclays mouth and gives it a light tug with his teeth, feels Sterns hands tighten in his shirt. 

“Indeed.” Suddenly Stern is kissing him without restraint, urging him backwards until he collides with the large chair in one corner of the room. He stumbles down into it and Stern wastes no time straddling him, tugging at the buttons of his shirt until it’s undone and he can drag his fingers through the dark hair on Barclays chest. 

“ _Jesus_.” Is all he has time to breathe out before Stern is on him again, hips rolling against him in just the right way to send him barreling past “aroused” and straight into “desperate.” He presses his face into Sterns shoulder, stifles a growl that doesn’t quite sound human and hears Stern gasp in response, smells his aftershave, licks and nips at the soft skin.

“Lucky, I, shit _shit_ ”

“Yes, my dear?” Stern grins at him even as he continues roaming his thumbs across his pecs and teasing his nipples, making Barclay arch and press his cock against the relentless movement of Sterns hips. 

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna, fuck, not last another fucking minute.”

Stern slows his movements, lets up slightly, eyes calculating and adoring as they consider him. 

“Just like that? My, you are a wound up big thing, aren’t you?”

The noise, somewhere between a whimper and deep purr, that leaves him at those words surprises him. 

“Oh, do you enjoy that, Barclay? Enjoy how I can tell just how needy you are, how long it’s been since anyone attended to that ridiculous, eye-catching bulge in your pants by how quickly you’re going to pieces from just this?” He resumes grinding hard and fast in his lap.

“Yes, _yes_ , Lucky.” He threads his fingers into Sterns hair and yanks him into a kiss, and Stern lets out a laugh that’s a bit wicked and completely charming and Barclay moans, taking care to muffle the sound against his neck as he comes. 

Stern sits back, regarding him with a smile. From the look on his face (and the scent of arousal circling in the air) Barclay senses he’s not even close to done with him.

The shorter man regards the spreading wet patch in the front of Barclays jeans with mock disapproval. 

“Tsk, you made a mess just from a little teenage groping. What am I going to do with such a beast?” He drags a nail down Barclays stomach. The last word sends a delicious spike of shame and need through Barclay, for reasons that he’s sure that Freud guy would love to dissect. But all he knows is that the way Stern is talking, the way he’s fixing him with that piercing gaze, is turning him on more and more with each passing moment. 

Stern stands and Barclay whines, not sure if he ought to follow him but immediately missing the contact between them. The object of his desire pretends not to notice is distress.

“Go clean yourself up.” 

Barclay scrambles to stand, pauses when Stern places a hand on his cheek, stroking it fondly. He kisses him once, sweet and gentle as can be, all traces of command or dominance slipping away for a moment to show someone who looks as happy as Barclay feels. 

Then the hand on his cheek pats it lightly and he takes that as his cue to head into the bathroom.

\-------------------------------------

This evening is not going at all how Stern had imagined it. 

That he’s gotten a confession that Barclay shares his feelings instead of a fight or a goodbye is magnificent in and of itself. That Barclay is turning out to have some very appealing preferences in bed is purely a bonus. 

He’d assumed the larger man would default to being dominant. But then again, perhaps that’s what all his other partners assume, and that assumption is why he reacts so strongly and positively to Stern taking charge and scolding him. 

(For the record, Stern would have been pleased no matter what Barclay preferred in bed because at the end of the day all the agent truly wanted was _him_ ).

He strips down to his boxer briefs and sits on the edge of the bed. Soon enough, the water stops running in the bathroom and Barclay emerges with a towel around his waist. The look on his face when he sees Stern is comically endearing. 

“Holy fuck.”

Stern lifts an eyebrow, feigns nonchalance even as his heart threatens to shatter his ribcage.

“That all you have to say.”

Barclay smirks, a knowing look, as he comes closer. 

“Not by a longshot, babe. Could spend all night telling you how fucking good you look.” He sinks to his knees between Sterns legs, runs a hand up each, “how bad I want you.” He slips his fingers under the waistband of the boxer briefs and tugs, and Stern shifts to help him pull them off. But when Barclay moves to do more, to press his face against the part of Stern that’s most eager for that contact, he grips his chin and keeps him from moving. 

“Put your face and palms on the bed.”

Barclay obeys instantly. 

“Shut your eyes.”

Barclay does and Stern takes his right hand, spends a moment simply running his thumb along it. Then he guides it down between his legs and slips the middle and index fingers of Barclays hand inside himself. 

“Fuck, babe, yes” Barclays free hand clenches the blanket as he whispers. Slowly, steadily, Stern fucks himself on those large fingers and Barclay lets him, lets him move his hand as he pleases, rut his dick against his palm. He’s letting out small whimpers each time Stern moans (quietly, the repercussions of having loud sex in house full of family not lost on either of them). He notices after a few minutes that Barclay keeps, perhaps inadvertently, straining his nose and mouth to try and bring them forward to join his hand.

“Something you want?”

A nod

“You have to say it, Barclay.”

“I wanna taste you so bad.”

“Is that all? I think that can be arranged.” He fists a hand into that dark hair and turns Barclays head so his lips are pressed against his thigh. Barclay licks and kisses the skin there, growls in frustration when Stern refuses to let his head move further up his leg.

“If there’s something specific you want to get that demanding mouth of yours on, you really must say so.”

Barclays head snaps towards him, cheek pressing against his leg and eyes open and glinting.

“Isn’t it pretty fucking obviousOWohhhh” the curse earns him a tug in his hair and Stern licks his lips at the wild look that flashes through his eyes, “fuck, jesus, I wanna suck your dick, wanna have you like you’re my last fucking meal, Lucky _please_.” 

“Oh, is that all? Alright then.” He releases Barclays head and hand and his back immediately hits the mattress as two strong hands snake beneath him to grip his ass and tilt his hips off the bed. 

He makes a deeply undignified, strangled yelp when Barclay buries his face against him, the slick sounds of his tongue lavishing him with attention punctuated by deep, sharp growls. His tongue moves in broad, flat swipes and maddening circles, occasionally teasing inside but never staying long.

“Ohmygod, Barclay, _oh_ mygod, more, yes.” He’ll go back to being commanding and in control in a moment, right now all he wants is to lose himself in the sensation of Barclays mouth on his skin, in the feeling of being so deeply wanted that the larger man dropped to his knees in front of him without a second thought. 

“That’s, oh lord, that’s perfect, yes, right there.” His sentences are becoming word salad and he slaps a hand over his mouth as he feels his orgasm building, unsure if he can keep quiet any other way. Returns his hand to Barclays hair, strokes and pets at it in a way he hopes conveys all the encouragement and praise he means to offer. 

He cums with groan, Barclay pulling back to nuzzle and caress his legs as it washes over him. The larger man climbs onto the bed with him as he lays there, panting. 

“Well, that was certainly, uh, something.”

“Understatement of the century, baby.” Barclay brushes hair from Sterns eyes, staring down at him like he invented the concept of baked goods. Stern holds the gaze and then lets it drift lower.

“Ready again so soon?” He’s genuinely surprised, given that he’s certain Barclay is older than him. 

Barclay blushes, shrugs, “you’re filling all my senses right now babe, and that gets me going something fierce. Don’t gotta do anything about it, unless you want to. Happy to just cudd-oof!” Stern rolls him so that his back is pressed against Sterns front, reaches one hand around his waist, brings the other to toy with his hair. 

“What am I going to do with you?” He murmurs, gripping Barclays cock and stroking it lazily, “you need so much attention, it’s amazing this thing” he adds a twist and Barclay turns his head just in time to yelp into the pillow, “doesn’t just distract you all day. Amazing you get anything done at all, when it’s clear what you really need is for every guy who passes through the lodge to take you in hand.” He quickness his pace and Barclay moans, presses his hips and ass back.

“N-no, not every guy, just you, only you, god, Lucky, you have no ideaAH!”

“No idea about what?” He sucks idly on Barclays neck, enjoying the little growl that elicits. 

“How much I’ve wanted, how much I thought about you, how, ohfuck bad I wanted to believe you wanted me too.”

“I do want you, you ridiculously appealing man. So much so that I’m contemplating sucking your dick right now.”

“Please.” It’s a drawn-out whisper and Stern smirks.

“Then again, I might make you come like this, not even give you the chance tonight to have your cock in my mouth. Punishment, of a type, for being so fucking obtuse when it came to my interest in you.”

“Obtuse? _I’m_ obtuse? You’re the one whooohhh, okay, I’m obtuse, I was completely oblivious to your hitting on me, oh fuck, fuck, babe, please _please_.” Stern laughs at how quickly Barclay caves, kisses the back of his neck.

“You’re getting a bit loud, baby. Do you want the whole house to know just how quickly you come apart with my hand on your cock? What an absolute mess you become?”

A barely suppressed moan.

“Or is that what does it for you? To have everyone know just how needy you are.”

Barclay isn’t making words, just high growls and whines in his throat. 

“Maybe I should have pity on you, you poor desperate thing. Let you come down my throat until you’re satisfied.”

“Getting t-too close, Lucky, please I need-” He gasps when Stern pulls his head back, exposing his neck to the bites and kisses he places on it.

“Let’s get on thing straight, Barclay. _I_ decide what you need, and what you’ll get.” 

Barclay strains until he’s able to kiss his lips, cums across his hand with something like a whimpering purr. 

He shudders as Stern quickly wipes his hand on his discarded shirt and turns him back to face him, peppering his neck, chest, and face in kisses.

“You are amazing, you are incredible, I can’t believe we just did that, my god, I can’t believe you want me like that, I’m so lucky, so very lucky.” He whispers between kisses and Barclay looks at him dreamily, giggles.

“You’re adorable.”

“I’m a federal agent trained in multiple covert techniques, and six feet tall. I am not adorable.” 

“Yeah, you are.” Strong arms gather him up and nestle him close. 

“Was that really alright, all those things I said?”

“Uh huh, woulda told you to stop if they weren’t.” Barclay kisses his brow, then his nose.

Stern can’t quite remember what they talk about as they fall asleep. All he remembers is that he hasn’t drifted off feeling so happy and safe in a long, long time. 

\--------------------------------------------

Mondays in Madison are an amalgamation of hangovers, buses, traffic, and the hustle and bustle of the week. 

But this Monday, for Barclay, is spent walking on air. The fear of the pretend affection going too far gone, Stern wraps himself around Barclay as he cooks breakfast, curls up against him as they read on the couch, holds his hand no matter how short or long a walk they go on. 

The agent is in the kitchen helping his mom and Mary with dinner that night when Barclay gets another phone call from the lodge. 

“Barclay, it’s Indrid.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yes. Er, rather, it is at this moment okay but will soon be possibly not. Oh, by the way, how are things going with Stern? Any...interesting discoveries?” He can hear that wide smile.

“Yeah, I’m learning a lot. I was really worth the trip. Can we get back to the-”

“-reason for my call, yes. Are you somewhere fairly private?”

“Yes.”

“Then I won’t mince words. An abomination broke containment, as it were. And I fear it’s heading your way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: A misunderstanding.


	6. Good Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stern turns something on and Barclay is taken by surprise.

“ _What_?”

“Apparently there was an abomination in containment in a portion of the safehouse and it broke loose.Goodness knows why you all still had it in the first place, but it came after me first. From how it acted, I believe it wanted my crystal. However, I and the others fought it off, at which point it turned tail and flew. The futures aren’t solidified yet, but there’s a high chance it’s heading towards you and your crystal.”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” He rakes a hand through his hair, panic rising in his chest.

“Sadly no. It may still circle back to me, but the moment I know for certain it’s heading for you instead I shall call.”

“How are you so calm about this?”

“Years of practice. Also everyone else is in a tizzy, so I feel no need to add to the overall mood of distress. Oh, stay away from water for the time being and watch the skies I, oh, oh dear, something is on firemustrungoodbye.”

There’s a click and Barclay is left staring at the phone with a mixture of frustration and dread. He plasters on a brave face and heads back inside.

Dinner is quiet, much of the extended, visiting family taking the days before the wedding to play the tourist. Stern seems as happy and comfortable during it as he was that morning. 

Until he and Barclay turn in for bed. At which point Barclay is pressed back against the wall, Sterns face inches from his and deathly serious. 

“What are you really doing here?” He hisses.

“Uh, being your plus one.” He keeps his voice level, tries to move Sterns hands off of him with no success (he could wrench them away if he had to, but needs to keep from showing his Sylph strength unless it's a matter of life and death).

“Why does the lodge keep calling?”

“I told you, they’re just letting me know the restaurant isn’t in chaos.”

“Is that so? It has nothing to do with you ‘learning a lot’ about me?”

“You heard that?”

“Obviously.”

He stops trying to push Sterns hands away, closes his own around them instead.

“Indrid was asking me if I’d learned anything about your feelings for me. He, uh, he knew about my crush.”

(It’s probably not a lie, Indrid likely saw this future coming and understood what that meant in terms of how Barclay felt about the agent).

Sterns face loses it’s ferocious edge, and his eyes flicker down at the ground.

“Oh.”

“Lucky?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Has someone done that before? Pretended to like you to try and, like, spy on you or some shit?”

A nod.

“Oh babe, come here.” He tugs Stern into a hug, leans back against the wall as Stern lets out a heavy sigh against his neck, “you’ve had a real run of bullshit in the last few years, haven’t you?”

“That’s putting it mildly. I’m so sorry I just, the idea that you might have ulterior motives, that my family could get caught up, I-”

“Hey,” Barclay tilts his chin up to look at him, “I get it, okay?” He kisses him, runs his hand across his cheek. Stern returns the kiss, slips his tongue between Barclays lips, rubs his hands across his chest.

“Should we move to the bed?” He whispers. 

“Hell yeah.”

Barclay lets Stern lead him down onto the mattress, crawls on top of him and tangles his fingers into his hair. Sterns teeth find his collarbone, biting at the skin below it through his shirt. There’s a particularly hard bite and Barclay rocks forward. 

The bed squeaks and hits the wall. They both look at the point where the wall and bedframe connect. Barclay repeats the motion, Stern groaning softly. The bed squeaks again, loud enough to be heard in the rest of the house.

“Get on the floor.” Barclay growls and Stern hops off the bed, stands patiently with his arms folded behind his back as the larger man chucks the top blanket onto the ground and spreads it out. He stays kneeling, looking at Stern and licking his lips. 

“Get undressed, I need to grab a few things.” Sterns tone leaves no room for argument, though Barclay lets out one more growl for good measure as he unbuttons his shirt. By the time he’s stripped and laying down, Stern has returned with a box of condoms, which he assumes the man bought while out on errands that morning. 

The small vibrator, however, is a complete surprise. Stern catches him staring at it and smiles with a blush.

“I anticipated being turned on as a result of spending so much time around you, so thought it best to bring something in case I needed to relieve the pressure.” He settles between Barclays legs, runs his hands up them appreciatively, “But I can think of some...other uses for it.” He grins, begins opening the box of condoms.

“You were gonna just hide in the bathroom and fuck yourself while I was in the other room? That’s real fucking hot. Thought not quite as hot as the idea of you riding my dick.” He wiggles his hips and Stern glances at his now-hard cock with a smirk. 

“We’ll see. Depends on how you behave. Hands by your sides, and they’d better stay there until I say otherwise.”

“What’re you gonna do if I disobey, agent, cuff meAH, oh fuck.” He can’t stop the shout that comes when Stern runs the vibrator across the head of his cock. 

“No” Stern says casually, drawing the device up the shaft “I’ll simply deny you the chance to fuck me.”

“You wouldn’t, fuck _fuck_ fuck, dare.” His hands curl into the blanket in an effort to not move them.

“I very much would. You’re so wound up already it wouldn't take much of this” he presses the vibrator against the head again and holds it there until Barclay whimpers, “to make you come. Then all you could do is watch while I fucked myself with this lovely device and wish it were you. And do you know what?” He leans forward, kisses Barclays stomach.

Barclay shakes his head, brain starting to overload from lust.

“You wouldn’t even complain, you’re so needy you’d be grateful for the chance to simply see me cum.”

“You’re damn fucking right I would, fuck, Lucky, wanna make you feel good, want you to be happy, I want, I want-” he cuts off as the vibrator runs slowly up and down his cock.

“Shhhh, I know my dear, I know exactly what you want. It radiates off you, all that barely-restrained _wanting_.” He twirls the device between his fingers, looking at Barclay thoughtfully, voice clipped and professional “Should I make you come like this, or should I fuck myself on you until you see stars? What do you think?”

“Fuck me, Lucky please, I wanna be inside you so much, so bad, please.”

“You don’t seem to have a strong opinion either way.”

“ _Lucky_ ” it’s a drawn out growl, dangerously close to un-human but Barclay doesn’t care. 

“Make your case, Barclay.”

“I want you to ride me, want you to use me like I belong to you, wanna make you feel so good, come while I’m in you, fuck, I’ll do anything, suck your dick every morning, obey your every word, fucking build you a house with my bare hands please _please_.”

Stern chuckles, clicks off the vibrator and slips out of his shorts and underwear. 

“Since you asked so nicely.” He rolls a condom down in practiced motion before sinking onto Barclay, and the larger man tries to burn the image into his mind because it’s by far the best thing he’s ever seen. 

“Good Lord” he breathes out, bracing his hands on Barclays and intertwining their fingers.

“You okay up there?” 

“Never better, jesus, Barclay, you feel incredible.”

Barclay preens, pushes his hips up and Stern moans, so he does it again. And again. And again, savoring the way Sterns whole body jolts from his thrusts.

“I was, ohmygod, going to demand you stay still so I could fuck you but, shit, but fuck it.” He guides Barclays hands up to grip his ass and hips before diving down to kiss him. His hips roll in time with Barclays thrusts, small moans passing between their mouths. It goes on for what seems like an instant and a year all at once, Barclay doesn’t want the kiss to end, even as Sterns fingers tense and he clenches around him. He breaks away with a gasp, pressing his mouth to Barclays neck as he comes.

“Please don’t stop.” He pants and Barclay doesn’t hide the rumbling purr that flits out of his throat as he rolls them over. He hooks one of Sterns legs around his hip, fucking him hard and fast. Stern whimpers, presses his lips onto any part of Barclay he can reach.

“That’s it babe, fuck you feel so good, take it so well, goddamn I love fucking you, shit, Lucky.” He digs his fingers into Sterns skin and feels him shudder, cums hard and long, waiting until it’s completely over before pulling out. 

Stern cuddles up against him, breathing steadily and occasionally planting kisses on his shoulder.

“Oughta move to the bed before we fall asleep.”

“In a minute, baby” Stern brings Barclays arm to drape across his side, the pet name making the larger man blush more than he thought possible, “in a minute.”

\---------------------------------

Barclay wakes up the next morning with Stern still wrapped in his arms, sun only just beginning to creep through the windows. He also wakes up with morning wood, and while it’s not as dire a situation as the last time it’s still not ideal. 

“G’morning handsome.” Stern murmurs against his chest.

“Morning.” He kisses the top of his head with a smile. 

“Need some help?” Stern wiggles against him flirtatiously.

“Oh you, uh, noticed, sorry about-”

“No need to” he pauses to yawn “apologize. Offer still stands.” He nuzzles his beard.

“Please?”

Stern rolls away for a moment, leaning off the bed to rummage on the floor and give Barclay an excellent view of his unfairly firm ass. He rolls back with a condom in hand, puts it on once Barclay shifts out of his boxers. Draws his tongue up the shaft and Barclay hisses in pleasure, flops back into the pillows. 

He watches through hooded eyes as Stern takes the first few inches into his mouth, humming and sucking happily, fingers teasing at the root. Barclay whines when he pulls off with an obscene sound.

“It really is spectacular.” He purrs, licking and nuzzling in ways that have no way to be as hot as they are.

“Glad you like it, oh! Ohhhhhh, like that.” 

Stern huffs a laugh through his nose as he bobs up and down, free hand squeezing Barclays thigh lovingly. 

“You’re real fucking good at that, almost like you have a lot of practice.” He teases. 

A playful growl, one that sends a shiver through his system and Stern doubles his efforts until Barclay is panting, fingers in that dark hair and hips twitching softly as Stern swirls his tongue across the head unrelentingly until Barclay cums. 

Stern settles his cheek on his chest, fingers drawing lazily on his skin.

“Need me to return the favor?”

“Not at the moment. I’m not quite awake enough to be turned on. But good lord do I enjoy your cock.” He winks at him, repeats the small growl.

“You’re adorable.” Barclay pets his hair, fighting back the urge to take off his bracelet and demonstrate a real growl. Stern laughs softly, presses another kiss to his skin.

“If you insist.”

\----------------------------------------------

The day, much like the one before it, is uneventful. They cuddle and read, walk hand in hand, take Ellie to the park where she shrieks with delight when Barclay pushes her incredibly high on the swings. 

It’s not until after dinner, with a few members of the house already asleep, that the trouble begins. 

There’s a garbled roar, a screech, and then a crash in the backyard. 

“What the hell?” Lily looks at Stern who is already up and running. Barclay is one step ahead of him, Indrids warning clear in his mind. He reaches the back door, steps out to find a familiar, dark shape with wings crumpled on the ground. 

He and Stern experience the next few moments very differently. 

Barclay takes another step and Indrids head snaps up, his glowing eyes wide with fear. He reaches out a hand, palm up to signal the man should stop. Barclay sees his mouth form the word “don’t.” Then the world goes dark.

Stern reaches the door just in time to register an alien shape with glowing eyes extend a hand towards his boyfriend.

And then Barclay is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up Next: Indrid is not having a good night.


	7. Tommorrow's Gonna Be Another Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Indrid offers explanations. And the house gets even more crowded.

“Lucky, what’s going on? What’s-”

“Stay inside!” Stern turns to Lily, switching into special agent mode in a heartbeat “keep everyone inside and stay hidden in your rooms. I’ll handle this.”

His sister doesn’t argue, begins ushering the others back indoors with a series of urgent gestures and whispers.

He turns back to the strange monster in the yard, who is trying to stand with some difficulty. It makes it to it's knees, carefully extends one wing and let’s out a low, pained chirr before quickly retracting the appendage.

He puts his hands to his chest and sides for weapons that aren’t there when the creature looks at him.

“I didn’t warn him fast enough. I’m sorry.” It says softly as it's antannae droop and Stern could swear he knows that voice from somewhere. At the very least, he’s positive what he’s looking at is some kind of mothman. But that doesn’t answer the most important question. 

“Where _is_ he?” 

“I don’t know, I can’t see it, everything is resetting.” The mothman rubs his temples with a pained sound, then freezes before looking towards the street.

“I’m here!” He calls.

There are footsteps and Stern turns towards the side gate just in time for a man to shove it open and dash onto the lawn. This time, there’s no doubt about who he's looking at.

It’s Duck Newton, currently dropping to his knees to cup the mothmans face in his hands.

“Thank fuck you’re okay, I was so worriedoh SHIT, your wing. You’re bleeding, fuck, okay lemme get the first aid kit. You'll be okay, promise, gonna fix you right up.” He’s running his hands over the rest of the cryptid, clearly checking for injuries. 

“Ranger Newton?”

Duck starts, seems to notice Stern for the first time. He's on his feet in an instant, keeping himself between Stern and the mothman on the ground. Which confirms his theory.

“Mr Cold?” He indicates the injured figure.

“Indeed.” Indrid’s voice is tight with pain.

“What, and I mean this as politely as possible, the fuck are you doing here?”

“Tryin' to prevent a disaster. Speakin' of which, where’s-”

“Gone. I couldn’t do it Duck. I tried to keep it at bay and instead drew Barclay right into its path.”

“I told you not to follow it when it attacked the car.” Duck is back on the ground, rubbing Indrids hands to soothe him. 

“The alternative was a multi-car crash, including ours.” He presses his forehead against the rangers', “and I mean it when I say I’d die to keep you safe.”

“Goofus.” Duck kisses his head.

“Ahem.” Stern crosses his arms, looks at them expectantly.

“We will explain shortly, Agent Stern. Best to wait until the others arrive.”

“Others, what others?”

A voice that definitely belongs to Aubrey Little echoes from the front of the house.

“Duck? Indrid? Where are you guys?”

“Back here Aubrey!”

“Would you all please stop yelling it is after eleven!” Stern hisses. 

Aubrey skids around the gate, Mama and Ned on her heels. 

“Madeline, it took him. I'm sorry” Indrid murmurs, shrinking in on himself. Stern's never seen Mama look anything other than calm or gruff. But her face drains of all color as she spits out many, many expletives. Then she notices him standing there and groans in frustration.

“Lemme guess, he saw the whole damn thing.”

“I’ve no idea whether I did or not because none of you have explained what ‘the whole thing' is!”

The five exchange a glace, before Mama sighs.

“Alright, let’s start with this: how much do you know?”

\---------------------------------------------

“Camouflage?” Stern sits across from Mama, Ned and Aubrey on the couch as they finish explaining the situation (Indrid occasionally chiming in from the bathroom where Duck is stitching him up).

“Yep, damn thing blends in with its surroundins', makes it near invisible. Hell to fight, too.”

“I got a glimpse of it’s true form when we were in the sky. It’s a bit like a winged serpent” Indrid’s comment is cut off by a series of pained chitters and Duck saying sorry. 

“Apologies for the foul language, as I was saying, I can see far enough in my visions to know it can swim as well as fly.”

“It’s almost like that flying snake thing, quetzel-whatsit” Aubrey taps her chin.

“Quetzalcoatl” Ned adds, “I believe we have some feather specimens from one in the Cryptonomica.”

Stern rolls his eyes. 

“Point is, it’s gnarly as all fuckin' get out.” Duck walks into the living room, toweling his hands.

“We should move fast then. I don’t want Barclay around something that dangerous for a moment longer.” Stern stands, but Mama shakes her head.

“We been on the road non-stop, one of us is hurt, the rest dead on our feet. Much as I agree with your feelin' on the matter, we ain’t in any shape to chase it down. And Barclay ain’t much for others gettin' hurt on his account.”

“But he’s in danger. He doesn’t stand a chance against a creature like this.” Stern could scream from how frustrating they all are sometimes. 

“I wouldn’t discount him so, ow, so quickly.” Indrid, still in moth form, stands behind Duck, “He’s quite capable of handling himself for the time being."

Stern sighs, “very well. But if he ends up hurt or, god forbid, worse, I swear-”

“Yes, yes, understood.” Indrid waves his hand grumpily, then cocks his head, “now, to more urgent matters. Can I sleep on that couch? Because we have forty seconds before I pass out.”

\----------------------------

Stern doesn’t sleep well. Every time he shuts his eyes he pictures Barclay, which his absolute bastard of a mind quickly warps into images of Barclay wounded or dead. He also can't shake the feeling that they still aren't telling him the whole truth. None of them will tell him why, specifically, Barclay is mixed up in this the way he is. 

He shuffles downstairs, catches the sound of a pen scratching in the living room.

“I’m gonna draw an alien.” Says a familiar, six-year-old voice.

“Excellent choice.”

He dashes the few feet from the kitchen into the living room. Why in god’s name is his niece alone with a literal cryptid? Has Lily lost her mind?

Except Mothman is nowhere to be seen. Instead, Indrid Cold is curled on the couch, massive bandage on his arm, while Ellie sits on the floor nearby with a stack of (hopefully) discarded drawings that she is scribbling on top of in crayons. Indrid doesn’t even look up as he speaks.

“As far as your sister is concerned, I am a friend of yours who was in a motorcycle accident last night and you, good samaritan you are, offered to let me rest here just to be sure I was alright. I also offered to watch Ellie for her while she ran an errand.”

“Excuse me?”

“You were about to ask how I explained my presence to the members of your family already up and about.”

Ellie notices him and waves a drawing.

“Uncle Lucky, look! I drew you and uncle Barclay.”

“That’s, that’s very” he takes a breath, all to aware of the tears threatening to prick his eyes at the mention of Barclay, “very nice my dainty Dover demon.” He takes a seat across from Indrid, watches his hands move across the paper. The man tilts back slightly to regard the image, then tears it out and tosses it aside. 

“The others will be waking up shortly. Once they’re here we shall plan. I believe I know where we need to go.”

“Oh thank god.”

Indrid gives him an enigmatic smile, stands and hobbles towards the kitchen with the blanket still drawn over his shoulders. He returns with a mug of black coffee. 

The front door opens and Duck enters, stretching his arms with a crack.

“Jesus, forgot how much sleepin' in a car sucks. Could really use some-”

“Coffee” Indrid holds out the mug, kisses Duck on the cheek when he takes it.

“Did you all sleep in the car?”

“Yep. Not the comfiest night’s sleep, but seemed awful rude for all of us to camp out on your floor.” He settles on the couch, gently wraps an arm over Indrids shoulder. Sterns heart pangs, wishing there was someone there to do the same for him. Duck catches Ellie looking at him, tips his hat to her. 

The others file in, rubbing their eyes and cursing their bones (okay, it’s mostly Ned who does that last one). Sterns trying to think of a way to get Ellie to leave without piquing her curiosity when Indrid hands her several blank papers. 

“Ellie, my arm hurts from drawing. How about you take over my job for awhile? I need you to draw me every type of plant in the backyard.”

“Okay!” She dashes out and in a few moments there’s a “slap” of a screen door opening and shutting. 

“Is that really wise, Mr.Cold? The abomination could still be out there.”

“I assure you, it has no interest in coming back here. It has what it wants. Which leads me to my next point” he’s still drawing, “I believe it didn’t take Barclay far, just to a secluded portion of the northern of the two lakes. All we have to do is find it’s hiding place.”

“And then set it on fire?” Aubrey seems hopeful.

“Ideally, yes. I think we’d all be happier if we could rely solely on long-range attacks.”

“I suggest we finalize our plan of action in the car on the way there.” Stern stands with an air of finality. 

“I’m afraid my friend that this is strictly Pine Guard business and that we cannot allow-”

“Ned ‘Chicane is definitely not your last name’ Chicane, I will dig up every sordid part of your past if you try to stop me.”

Ned freezes mid-speech, then shrugs, “very well, but don’t say we didn’t warn you.”

Movement behind them, and Stern turns to find Nat, Gwens' fiance, in the hallway. Aubrey waves, Ned acts casual, Mama rubs her forehead in frustration and Duck looks at Indrid, who merely pats his leg. Nat smiles at them.

“Couldn’t help but overhear you all talking. I wanted to ask you something” she rolls up the sleeve of her t-shirt to reveal an arm cuff; silver, with a distinct orange crystal in the center, “how can I help?”

“Holy shit” Aubrey whispers as the others, Stern included, gape in surprise. Indrid still doesn’t look up from his sketches, although he does smile when he speaks.

“Hello, cousin, nice to see you again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Barclay is not having a remotely enjoyable time.


	8. Terrifying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang makes a plan, Barclay makes a break for it.

“ _Cousin_!” It’s Duck who speaks first, looking at Indrid with shock. The taller man shrugs.

“I told you, I have a large extended family.”

“Yeah but you didn’t say anythin' about any of them being on Earth.”

“To be fair” Nat says, slipping into an armchair, “he and I haven’t seen each other since I was first exiled. He helped me get adjusted to Earth. Although it seems like he’s taken his fondness for humans a bit further than I thought.” She smirks as she looks at Duck

“ _I’m_ not marrying one. Yet.” He pats Duck gently as the ranger chokes on his coffee. 

“Speaking of which, does Gwen know?” Stern crosses his arms, arches an eyebrow.

“No, she doesn’t. It’s, well, how does one go about telling the person they love, ‘oh by the way I was born a giant, flying alien? I know it’s dishonest, but my ties with Sylvain were cut long ago. It won’t affect our life together.”

“It literally may be about to. And you owe Gwen the truth, even if it’s uncomfortable. Goodness knows I’d want to know if my partner was hiding something like that from me.” 

Because his focus is on Nat, he misses the look exchanged by the Pine Guard at his comment. This is for the best. 

Nat holds up her hands, placating.

“Okay, okay, point taken. Here’s the deal; you let me help get your boyfriend back, I’ll come clean to Gwen.”

Stern holds out his hand, and Nat shakes it.

“Deal. Now that’s settled can we please focus on finding Barclay before something bad happens?”

Mama nods, waves everyone in closer.

“Alright y’all, here’s what I’m thinkin'…”

\------------------------------------------------------------

Barclay doesn’t remember much from the night before. He remembers Indrid, remembers seeing him on the ground and trying to warn him and then he was wrapped up in a mass of _something_ and squeezed him tight and no matter what he did he couldn’t get loose. Eventually he’d passed out from the pressure on his body and the exhaustion of fighting. 

He opens his eyes, can tell by the light it’s already late afternoon. He’s still in one piece, which is a small miracle considering he was grabbed by an abomination. He’s also in the woods, not far from the edge of a lake, with zero idea where the fuck he is in relation to the city, the world, or Stern.

Shit. Stern had seen it happen. And he’d seen Indrid. Maybe he blames the Sylph for Barclay’s disappearance, or maybe the abomination doubled back and hurt him. Barclay needs to get moving.

He stands and then immediately sits back down, his whole body wracked with pain, no doubt from being squeezed half to death. And all over a crystal.

Oh god, the crystal is gone. That’s okay, he’ll get another, he’ll be fine, he has a few days until he starts to feel the effects of its absence. 

“It’ll be fine.” He says aloud, in the hopes that will make the statement true.

Bubbles form at the edge of the water. Then a flat, dark head with large orange eyes rises out of it. The crystal is hanging from it’s jaws, and when it opens them to hiss at him he spies many, many rows of teeth. 

Time to run.

He stands, growling in pain, and tears off his bracelet. His Sylph form has a higher pain tolerance and can move faster, and right now he’s less concerned with creating new Bigfoot sightings in Wisconsin than he is with not being torn to shreds. Mama can yell at him once the damn thing is dead. 

He takes off into the trees. There’s a shriek, followed by the sound of branches snapping and then a shadow is over his head. He looks up, but can’t see the abomination even as the shadow says it’s gaining on him. He heads for a patch of thicker trees, and as he weaves through the shadow drops farther and farther behind him. 

The sun is also dropping lower and lower, and once it’s gone his only way of tracking his attacker will be too. 

Just as he’s starting to run out of stamina and hope (trees, everywhere trees and for all he knows he’s going in circles) the abomination screams, and the sound grows further and further away, almost as if it’s being pushed by something. 

He’ll worry about what that something is later. Right now, he just needs to get somewhere safe.

\----------------------------------------

Stern cannot believe this. He is a highly trained federal agent with years of experience in investigating the paranormal. He’s had special instructions on how to handle everything from extraterrestrials to lake monsters.

And they have him keeping watch.

Specifically, if he sees the creature he’s to radio the others and then head for cover. 

It’s almost like…

He sighs, lets his shoulders slump forward.

It’s almost like they don’t trust him. It shouldn’t be a surprise, Barclay was really the only one at the lodge who took the time to get to know him. As far as they’re concerned, he’s an interloper. 

He misses Barclay. Misses how safe the other man makes him feel, the way he looks at Stern like he’s something to be wanted and cared for rather than distrusted or mocked. 

Lost in thought as he is, he doesn’t here the cracking branches until the thing cracking them is right on top of them.

“What theoof!” Is all he manages before he tumbles to the ground.

\----------------------------------

Barclay sees the figure a second before he collides with it, leaving him no time to stop. 

They fall to the ground, and he’s already apologizing as he raises up on his arms before he catches sight of the face looking back at his.

Relief and joy flood his system in equal parts.

“You’re okay, oh thank fuck, I was so worried it might’ve gotten you too.” He sits up and when Stern does the same Barclay moves forward to gather him into a hug. 

But instead of leaning into the embrace, the other man skitters backwards with a gasp, confusion and disbelief plain in his eyes. 

Barclay realizes that, as far as the agent is concerned, he’s not looking at his boyfriend.

He’s looking at Bigfoot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Stern confronts several of his worst fears.


	9. I Don't Think You Know Me At All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Indrid, Stern, and Barclay all fail a dexterity saving throw.

Sterns world is shifting, twisting as he takes in the figure on the ground across from him. It’s Bigfoot, that much he’ll swear to. Why the cryptid is talking to him like it knows him, why it’s voice is so familiar, is something his mind is frantically trying to parse. 

His hand moves to holster on instinct, and the cryptid holds it hands out in a gesture of “stop.”

“Lucky, wait. It’s me.” Bigfoot searches for something on the ground, before holding up a woven bracelet. The bracelet that belongs to-

“Barclay?”

A nod.

“You’re...like Indrid? A Sylph.”

“Yeah.” Barclay rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. 

The sensation in Sterns gut shifts and burbles into a stew of anger.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” He asks with what remains of his calm.

“Nope” Barclay squeaks out, likely seeing the displeasure flickering in Sterns eyes.

“So your plan when we got back to Kepler was what, exactly? Let everyone laugh at me behind my back because they knew what I didn’t? ‘Oh, haha, the stupid FBI agent doesn’t know he’s letting the very creature he’s looking for sleep in his bed!” His voice bounces off the trees as he glares at Barclay, who remains frozen and speechless from what he can only assume is guilt. Then a possible explanation coils an icy trail through his veins. 

“Or was it more than that” he stands, nails digging into the flesh of his palms, teeth clenching around his words, “was your interest in me some part of the plot to keep all this hidden? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, was that it?!”

“No!” Barclay stands in a hurry, “Well, that was part of why Mama suggested I come with you but-”

“Has anything you’ve said about your feelings for me over these last few days been true? Or was it all in the service of your so-called Pine Guard?”

“If you’d let me talk-” 

“You’ve done plenty of talking this past week, and it’s increasingly seeming like it was all bullshit so why in Gods name should I listen to you now?!”

Barclay doesn’t get a chance to answer, because a dark shape comes barreling through the trees, half flying and half running.

“We’ve been trying to radio you for the past few minutes, oh hello Barclay glad you’re in one piece, but I can see why you didn’t hear it.” Indrid doesn’t stop, continues his flight through the woods as he calls over his shoulder, “and unless you want to be eaten I suggest you run this way.”

Both of them take off after him, though the run doesn’t deter Barclay from his explanation.

“Lucky, if you just let me explain I can.”

“Listen carefully: I will help you and them destroy this abomination because it poses a threat to civilian life. But as soon as we are safe, as far as I’m concerned the only interest I have in you is professional.”

“For fucks sake” Barclay growls right before colliding with Indrids back. They’re at the edge of the water, clearly not the destination Indrid had in mind. He turns, smile wide and nervous.

“Not to worry, as long as we don’t see Ned airborne in the next thirty seconds we’ll be fine.”

Off to their left there’s a screech and then a Ned-shaped object flies into the air, saved from a fatal drop by Nat in all her winged glory. 

“Oh dear” Indrid mutters, “we haven’t time to put enough distance between us and it. Can you both swim?”

Stern is struck, first by the sensation that something is barreling towards them, and then by the something itself. Then cold water punches the air from his lungs as he plunges into the lake. He surfaces, spluttering, to spot Indrid and Barclay in the same predicament a few yards closer to shore. Barclay spies him and begins swimming his way, and Sterns about to shout that he is more than capable of handling himself when he sees them.

Yellow eyes in a dark head. Swimming right for him. 

And because this is the kind of day he’s having, his body chooses to freeze instead of fight or flee. He tries to force himself to swim backwards, away from the oncoming mass of teeth and hunger. Apparently his fate is to die by a monster of the deep, one way or another. 

A strong arm wraps around his chest and pulls him from the path of the abomination. 

“I got you, I swear to god I won’t let it happen twice. Breathe, babe, please breathe.”

Stern gasps out the breath he was holding in anticipation of his death. 

The creature doesn’t circle back for them, instead turning its attention to the quarry currently hauling itself back onto the shore: Indrid. 

“Hey, you! Don’t take another fuckin' step, or, uh, slither towards him.” 

Standing on the shore to the abominations left is Duck, looking ridiculous and heroic all at once. The dark head lifts, looks at him.

“You touch a single feather on him and I’ll cut you in half.” Duck holds his ground even as the creature rises up with a shrieking hiss. But when it tries to lunge forward, it merely jerks, and they all look up to find Nat holding it by it’s frill, wings batting the air furiously. Stern and Barclay make it to shore just as the others finally come sprinting out of the treeline. 

“Just get the crystal back before you kill it, please.” Barclay yells towards Mama, who nods, tilts her head towards Aubrey, who readies a small fireball. 

The creature shakes it’s head and lets out a noise. Not loud this time, more plaintive than enraged. It almost sounds like it’s trying to speak. 

“Wait!” Stern holds up a hand, turns to look at the abomination, “what did you just say.”

Through a gurgle and a hiss, they all hear it. 

“Pleeaasse, need help.”

“So it can talk. Other ones have too, didn’t make ‘em any less dangerous.” Mama doesn't lower her gun, but Aubrey snuffs out her hands, shuts her eyes for a moment before opening them. 

“Whoah shit! Uh, I’m picking up some weird stuff on my third eye.”

“Third eye?” Stern says, flatly. 

“I think it has one too! I’m gonna try to communicate that way. Don’t let it eat me if I’m wrong. Nat, I think you can let it go.”

Nat glances at Indrid who, after a moments pause, nods.

Free, the abomination lowers down, rests its head resignedly on the shore. 

“I’m seeing, uh, images of it leaving Sylvain.”

The creature shakes it head, “exiiiled" it whines. 

“Okay, exiled. Then you got stuck out too long, started to go feral, got into containment on accident.” Aubrey opens her eyes with a gasp, “you wanted a crystal so you could calm down.”

A watery nod, “didn’t want to hurt. Just needed this.” It holds out a taloned hand to reveal a glowing orange stone. 

Mama lowers her shotgun, sighs, “so you’re just a regular Sylph?”

“Yesss.”

“You got a name?”

The sylph thinks for a moment.

“Layla.”

“Alright, then Layla, you can keep that there crystal, since I’m guessin' you don’t want to do back to the lodge.

A shake of the head, “Like thissss lake. Need a disguissse for land.”

Everyone looks at Indrid who shrugs, “very well, I’ll whip up something. Provided no one asks me to babysit this one.”

\--------------------------------------------

While the residents of Kepler and the Amnesty Lodge sort out the details of Laylas new life, Stern sits on a log. He’s not sulking, but he’s close. 

A small bouquet of wildflowers enters his peripheral vision in the grasp of a familiar, human hand. 

“What are these for?” He takes them as Barclay sits beside him. 

“It’s an apology.”

“I was not aware that Sylphs followed the same ritual of ‘I’m sorry I fucked up’ flowers.”

“We don’t. But it’s one of the things you pick up when you spend a lot of time on Earth.”

“I see.” He purses his lips; he wants to throw the flowers into the lake. He wants to press them to his chest. 

“The disappearances were all my past versions of this” he indicates his body, “I couldn’t keep the same one forever, not like Indrid does. It makes me jumpy, makes me think people will notice something they shouldn’t.” 

The answer to years of searching, he should feel exhilarated. He doesn’t.

“So that’s that.” Barclay awkwardly slaps his palms on his thighs and stands, “Now you know. You don’t want to come back to Kepler, you don’t have to ever again. Bigfoot mystery solved.” He begins walking back towards the others, then stops and turns. Stern meets his eyes. 

“I wasn’t lying about how I feel, Lucky. You’re a hell of a guy, and I’m all but in love with you. But, well, I shoulda come clean before things got to this point. You don't have to forgive me for not doing that, but I’m sorry all the same.”

“As am I.”

Barclay turns his back again, starts walking.

Stern swallows down the lump in his throat. And watches him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: confessions and weddings.


	10. You Just May Be The One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heart to Hearts are had.

By some miracle, the only person home when they stagger back that night is Gwen.

“Ohmygod, I was so worried, what was with the cryptic note honey? You've been hanging out with Lucky too much, his secret agent stuff is rubbing off on you. I was worried you’d gotten cold feet.”

Nat smiles, pulls the shorter woman into a hug, “take a lot more than a few jitters to make me leave my girl.” They kiss and Stern looks away, catches sight of Barclay heading upstairs. When he glances back, he realizes Nat’s gaze had been moving from Barclay to him. Then it moves back Gwen.

“Come out back with me for a sec? There’s something I want to show you.”

Gwen follows her eagerly and they disappear into the yard. Behind him, Mama clears her throat.

“We’ll be headin out shortly. Just gotta get a few supplies for the road and get everyone in the car, which is like herdin' fuckin' cats sometimes.”

“Mama, please do the me mercy of saying we’ll be bedding down somewhere other than the car tonight. My distinguished frame cannot take another night of sleeping on a bench seat.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know, Ned, you ain’t the only here with old bones.”

Stern leaves them to bicker and Aubrey to snore softly on the couch, steps to the window and spies Nat talking earnestly to Gwen. Indrids' reflection joins his own. 

“I do hope it goes well.”

Outside, Nat places a hand on her bracelet.

“Oh good.” The Sylph murmurs. 

A black mothperson with iridescent blue in her wings stands before Gwen, who takes a step back. Stern holds his breath. Cautiously, his cousin moves forward, reaches out a hand and touches a wing. Nat takes her hand, guides it up and bumps it against her feathered forehead. Then reality twists and her human form once again stands in the back yard, where she is swiftly pulled into an embrace by Gwen. 

“Where is your nearest liquor or grocery store?” 

Stern turns, puzzled by the question, “two blocks west, why?”

Indrid doesn’t answer, opting to turn and call, “Duck, care to accompany me on a brief errand? We need to get a wedding gift for my cousin.”

Stern watches as they link arms and head out the door. Moves with purpose towards the staircase. He knows what he has to do, though it terrifies him to do it. 

When he walks into his room, Barclay is on the floor, silently packing his things. He looks up, sees who it is, and looks back down immediately.

“Be out of your hair soon.”

“You’re just going to leave, then?”

At that Barclay straightens, turns to him with a frown.

“What else would I do? You basically said you wanted this to be over, so it’s over.”

“What about what you want?” Stern leans against the door, settles his gaze on the bookcase.

“Pretty sure it only takes one person wanting a break-up for it to happen.” He zips his duffel bag closed and stands. 

Stern wants to say a dozen different things; that he understands now, that he isn’t angry, that he wants what his cousin has, what Duck has, that the idea of a life without Barclay in it cuts like a dull box-cutter against his heart. 

Instead he says, voice soft and fragile, “don’t go.”

The floor creaks as Barclay walks the few feet of the room to stand almost, but not quite, in front of him. When Stern finally meets his eyes, they’re warm and brown like always. And they’re waiting, letting him say his peace. 

“When you tried to apologize earlier I was still processing everything. And I’ll admit that I’m not at my most forgiving when I’ve had a day full of world-shifting, potentially deadly surprises. I had some time to think. In the car. I,” he winces as emotions claw their way up his throat, “I realized that I was hurt, yes, but that no matter which way I looked at it I couldn’t actually convince myself you’d been lying about your feelings. I’m not a means to an end, not to you. You genuinely want me.”

“More than anything.” Barclay is a half step closer, tentatively extends an arm and Stern presses against his chest, feels that arm wrap around his shoulder, the other bring a hand up to stroke his hair. He leans into the sweetness of the touch, sighs as Barclay continues to pet him and bring his face down so he can kiss and nuzzle the top of his head. 

“Then stay. Please.”

“You got it.”

Were he as suave and collected as his job title suggests, Stern would surge up for a passionate kiss. Instead, all the collected stress and longing begin leaving his body in pathetic shudders. He pushes closer and Barclay opens his jacket so he can slips his arms and hands beneath it for comfort. The taller man whispers reassurance until Sterns thoughts collect themselves back into something solid. 

“Of course, even if I know you’re Bigfoot, I believe my superiors may want me to stay in Kepler. Lots of strange events get reported in that town, they could use an agent on the ground there.” He smirks up at Barclay, “and the lodge could probably use someone to cover for them in the case of prying government eyes.”

“Seems like you got it all figured out.” Barclay kisses his brow.

“Humph, hardly, I had a bunch of cryptids running around under my nose and I nearly kicked my boyfriend out of my life twice in the last week due to misunderstandings.”

“Got a feeling he’s not gonna hold it against you.” Barclays lips trace along his own, barely touching. 

“All the same, I can think of some ways I’d like to...apologize.” On the last word he begins kissing Barclays neck.

“Later, babe. If we’re not down there to see them off, we’re never gonna hear the end of it.”

“Very well. But as soon as that’s all sorted out you are _mine_.”

They head downstairs to find the other assembling by the door. Mama sees their joined hands and raises an amused eyebrow. 

“Good news, Aubrey, you get a seat to yourself again.”

“Woohoo!”

As they begin filing out to the car, Indrid stops, hands a small envelope to Nat and Gwen.

“Congratulations to you both.” 

“Here, we’ll walk you out.” Barclay and Stern follow them out as the brides-to-be head off into the house. 

“Lottery ticket.” Indrid says, responding no doubt to the quizzical look on Sterns face, “one with extraordinarily good odds of winning a large but not ridiculous sum.”

Mama heads into the drivers side, Ned sliding into the passenger seat next to her. Aubrey dives into the far back, and as Duck climbs in after her Indrid turns and puts a somewhat awkward hand on Sterns shoulder. The smile he gives him, however, is genuine. 

“Welcome to the family.” 

“Don’t party too hard at the wedding!” Aubrey calls and then the door shuts, the engine revs, and the car putters off in the general direction of West Virginia.   
\-------------------------------

Stern and Barclay spend the next few days in a haze of bliss, not all of it due to the amount they’ve fucked on the floor, chair, shower and, when the entire family is out of the house for once, the bed. 

The day of the wedding arrives and while Barclay still isn’t fond of being cornered at family gatherings, he already feels more comfortable at them than he was when he and Lucky first arrived and ends up enjoying himself. Not to mention the festivities are formal enough to require he and Lucky to be in suits, something he will never tire of seeing the other man wear. 

The ceremony is brief, Nat and Gwen radiating happiness, and the reception is pleasant and the food is good. The drinks probably are as well, but both Barclay and Lucky steer clear of them. Barclay assumes they have the same reason for doing so. 

When they get back to the house, his hunch is confirmed. Lucky nearly tackles him, and it’s only due to the strength seeping through from his Sylph form that he’s able to keep them steady long enough for him to make his way to the armchair. 

“Now that the familial obligation has passed” Lucky purrs as he climbs into his lap, “I think it’s time we had a celebration of our own.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Stern loves a man in a suit.


	11. Daydream Believer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our boys celebrate

Sterns hands begin undoing the buttons on his dress shirt as he rolls gently against Barclays lap.

“Aside from being able to get your cock out and me being able to do this” he drags his nails down Barclays chest, “all this stays on. Because I want to see what you look like dressed up and ruined at the same time.”

“Jesus fucking _christ_ that’s hot.” Barclay growls, tugs him by his tie into a heated kiss, “yours has gotta stay on too.”

“Barclay, you see me in a suit all the time.”

“Yeah, your work suit.”

“Um, I may not dress strictly regulation most days. Because I’m occasionally trying to look eye-catching for a certain cook.”

Barclay grabs his hips, pulls him down so he can rub his cock against him with a moan. 

“I am, however, going to need to take my pants off.”

Barclay gives an exaggerated pout.

“Unless you don't want to fuck me in the ass.”

“Off, offoffooff” He tugs at Sterns' pants, as the agent throws his head back with a laugh before standing up.

“Wait here.” He kisses Barclay on the head, ducks into to the bathroom and returns with the condoms and lube. It’s immensely gratifying to watch Barclays eyes widen as he strips off his pants and underwear. Stern climbs back into his lap and begins working a finger inside himself. Barclay offers another pout.

“Don’t I get to do that?”

“What you _get_ , greedy creature, is to watch me while I prepare to take that oversized cock of yours.”

“At least let me warm you up.” He whines, fingers ghosting against Sterns dick only for Stern to slap his hand away.

“You can grope me all you like, but that area is off limits until I tell you otherwise. Understood?”

“Yes.” Barclays pupils are blown wide and he’s already panting. Stern can hardly wait to see what happens once he actually starts fucking him.

“Yes…?” He stares at his boyfriend expectantly.

“Sir?” Barclay offers hopefully and desire coils in Sterns chest.

“Exactly. Good boy.” He presses a second finger in, tips his head back as Barclays strong hands pet and rub at his neck and hair. There’s a prickle of beard against him as Barclay leans in to his neck to kiss it and Stern allows himself a small moan. A glance down shows Barclay already leaking through his pants. 

“Good lord, you’re not going to come just from watching are you?”

“No, I don’t think so” he’s squeezing Sterns sides tightly as he continues coating his throat in kisses, “but please, babe, please don’t make me find out. Not today, at least.” He looks so desperate that a third finger slips in easily, Sterns own patience dangerously low. 

“Hmmm, well, I suppose you did manage not to paw me too much in front of my relatives.”

“Which I’d like a fucking medal for, I’ll have you knowohhhhhh.” Stern drags the nails of his free hand down Barclays chest.

“I was going to say that meant you deserved a reward, but then again…”

“Please, babe, sir, Lucky, whatever you want, anything, I’ll do it just say you’ll let me fuck you, please let me fuck you.” 

Stern chuckles low in his throat, brings their faces close together. 

“You’re adorable when you beg, big guy.”

Barclay growls, a real one, one Stern hasn’t heard before and it’s strange and menacing enough that he sits back on instinct, even as his arousal dials up another notch.

“Shit, sorry, forgot how that sounds to humans.” Barclay looks worried.

“I liked it. A lot.” Is all Stern manages through the knot of horny ideas his brain has become. 

Barclay grins, lunges forward with the same growl and Stern whimpers before managing to collect himself. 

“Get your cock out. Now.” 

Barclay kisses him, still grinning, as he fumbles with his fly. Stern tugs the condom off his hand and tosses it towards the trash, pulling a new one out of his jacket pocket and rolling it down the waiting cock. 

Carefully, he lowers himself down, feels an unmistakable press and give of muscle as the manages the first inch. Barclays hands are steadying him, but the larger mans head is thrown back against the chair, his breathing heavy.

“You alright there?”

“Oughta be asking you that.”

“I’m not the who looks like he may pass out.”

“I’m not about to pass out, I’m exercising self control so I don’t start pounding you before you’re ready.”

Stern wiggles down a few more inches and Barclay hisses, whines and shifts his hips.

“Soon, baby, soon OHshit.” He sinks all the way down, takes several deep breaths as he reaches into his pocket, “one last element to add.” 

“Oh hell yes.” Barclay whispers are Stern hands the small vibrator to him. 

“Stroke my cock with that while I adjust to having this ridiculous appendage inside me.”

“Yes sir.” Barclay clicks the toy on, moving it in light circles across Sterns cock, leans in for a kiss that Stern happily gives him. 

“Oh, oh yes, oh just like that.” He wriggles back and forth the get used to the stretch and Barclay makes a peculiar yipping noise. 

“Sorry” he gives a firmer press with the device but Stern is not so easily distracted.

“What was that sound?”

“Surprise, for my types of Sylph. And also, uh, begging.” 

“Is it now?” Stern wraps his arms around Barclays shoulders. Rises up an inch or two and then sinks down with relish. 

“Fuckpleasedothatagain.”

“Slip the device in so you can touch me.”

Barclay moves faster than he’s ever seen him, and he inhales sharply as the vibrator pulses inside him and large hands grip his ass. Stern cups his face lovingly in his hands.

“I’m going to ride you now my dear.”

“Yes, fuck _fuck,_ Lucky, oh god babe, please don’t stop.” Barclay moans against him as he fucks himself on him, making Stern grateful that his FBI physical training regime means he can keep this up for awhile. 

“Why would I, I haven’t come yet. Whether you do or not is immaterial, by the way.” He smirks as Barclay does his best to growl at statement only for it to morph into a whine as Stern grinds down. 

“I know, big guy, that’s what you really want isn’t it? For me to use you like you’re mine.”

“I _am_ yours, Lucky, have been for months.” The words are so earnest that Stern can’t help but kiss him, even as he sharpens his movements to make him moan louder against his lips. Stops moving as he pulls back.

“Then fuck me, Barclay.” 

There’s that growl again and Stern shivers as an arm wraps around his hips, pinning and pressing him down against Barclays cock. Slowly, the larger man bucks up into him, Stern gasping with each thrust. 

“Like that, babe?”

“Uh huh, perfect ohOHmygod.” He yelps as Barclays hand moves between his thighs, palm coming to rest where it can both move the base of the toy and rub against Sterns cock. He curls forward, head resting on the chair. This turns out to be a wise decision.

“Holy FUCK” Barclay is moving faster now, harder, pants and growls muffled against Sterns neck and shoulder.

“That’s it babe, hold tight, I got you, gonna make you feel so good. Just, fuck, just gotta” the hand disappears from the vibrator so that Barclay can have one on either of Sterns hips, “just gotta come in that tight little ass and then I’ll make you come so fucking hard. Oh yeah, oh _yes_.” His thrusts grow wilder as he digs his fingers into Sterns hips, then he grips tight and holds him still as his back arches off the chair with a higher growl. 

A hand threads into Sterns hair and yanks him into a searing kiss as the other returns between his legs, fucking him with the vibe as he ruts against it. 

“That’s it big guy, make me come, make me remember why I even give you the pleasure of fucking me in the first pla-AHhh, yes, Barclay.” The name leaves his lips just as he comes and Barclay wraps him in a possessive embrace as his orgasm shudders through him. He quickly reaches down, pulls out the vibe and shuts it off. 

A hand runs up and down his back as Barclay trails kisses along his cheek.

“You’re amazing, babe.”

“As are you. That was spectacular.” He nestles further into his arms. 

“Mmmhmm. You know, you’re gonna have to get up soon.”

“But this is so comfortable.”

“You’re still sitting on my dick.”

“My point stands.”

“I’m also starting to get clammy in my sweaty clothes.”

“Can’t have that. Very well.” He shifts up and off Barclay, stands and pulls the other man with him. 

“I’m gonna go change and rinse off. Meet you in bed, handsome.” He kisses him and Stern melts into it, body threatening to go boneless from pleasure aftershocks. Barclay draws back, nudges him lovingly towards the bed. 

Stern snuggles down under the blanket, the sound of Barclay whistling happily in the shower making his heart shine with delight. In spite of his name, he doesn’t always feel as though he possesses particularly good luck.

But tonight, with the man of his dreams soon to be asleep in his arms, he feels very Lucky indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Stern does some research.


	12. I'm a Believer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stern does some hands-on Bigfoot research.

“Are you sure this is alright?” Stern sits beside Barclay as he reclines on the bed in the cooks room. 

“Uh huh. You ready?”

Stern nods and with that Barclay removes his bracelet, bed groaning ominously under his Sylph form. The agent starts by stroking his cheek and petting his head, fingers teasing at the surprisingly soft fur. 

“It’s a lighter color than I assumed.”

“Yeah, because everyone puts on a fucking gorilla suit when they impersonate me.” Barclay sounds genuinely annoyed.

“Cheap imitations can’t compare to the magnificence of the real thing.”

Barclay arches an eyebrow in his direction, “thought this was to satisfy professional curiosity, not to flirt.”

Stern blushes, takes Barclays hand in one of his while running the other down the length of it. It’s true, he’d asked Barclay for the chance to take a close look at his Sylph form. He has, after all, spent years researching and tracking Bigfoot and is a just a little bit geeking out at the chance to get up close and personal. Barclay, sweet as he is, was quick to indulge him. 

“How much of all this strength” he squeezes Barclays bicep, “stays when you’re human?”

“Maybe like a fifth? Same with my senses, smell and hearing in particular.”

Stern releases his hand and Barclay folds them behind his head as the shorter man scoots down to rub a hand across his belly. The fur is coarser here.

“Ah, tickles!”

“Sorry.” Stern pulls his hands back. 

“Unlike a certain mothman I could mention, I’m not big on belly rubs.”

“Noted.”

He lifts Barclays leg and places it into his lap. His own body is starting to react to touching Barclay like this, a fact that simultaneously amuses and befuddles him. Unlike Barclay, Bigfoot had not been a star of many a late night fantasy.

Okay, so there’s been a few nights where he was a certain kind of horny that meant only a fantasy of Bigfoot catching him on a stakeout and fucking him in the woods would satisfy. 

His eyes move to Barclays feet. Yeah, they’re big alright. He wonders how another appendage matches up. 

Maybe they should stop before he makes a fool of himself and wait-

“What’s that noise?” He looks at Barclay, who’s eyes are shut and is seemingly unperturbed by the low rumbling noise filling the room. 

“I’m happy, what you’re doing feels real nice.”

Stern realizes he’s been absentmindedly stroking Barclays leg as he thinks, continues doing so as he says, “you’re purring.”

“It’s not purring.”

“Is it a repetitive, vibrating sound that you make when happy or content?”

“More or less, yeah.”

“Then it’s purring.”

Barclay huffs in mock annoyance, “fine, it’s purring, now keep doing that.”

“Think I can do one better.” Stern shifts, straddles just above Barclays hips and begins petting and lightly scratching his chest, “you like this when you’re human, I imagine it feels good like this too.”

Barclay simply nods as the noise increases in volume. Stern shuts his eyes, lets himself concentrate on the feeling of Barclay under his hands, on the way the purr travels up Sterns fingers in little buzzes, on how much strength is under that fur.

How Barclays hips have started moving.

He should just ignore that. It’s not necessarily a sign Barclay’s in the mood for anything. Then again…

Stern reaches behind him, slowly draws a finger up the half-hard cock he finds there. Barclays eyes snap open and he fixes Stern with an amused look.

“Professional curiosity, huh?

“What? I’m simply cataloguing all your features.” Stern says innocently, fingers curling around the feature in question. Barclay groans, bucks into his hand.

“Careful, babe, you’re on thin ice. You keep doing that I’m gonna have to show you just how big and scary I can be.”

“Nonsense, we both know you’re completely under my thumb” he swipes his thumb across the head of Barclays cock for emphasis. He knows where the challenge in his voice will likely lead them and he’s excited at the prospect (and not at all worried that Barclay would actually hurt or scare him; the man’s the most considerate lover he’s ever had).

The only warning he gets is the purr shifting into a growl and then he’s flat on his back with Barclay looming over him. 

“Seems like what you’re angling for is for me to fuck you like this. I got that right?”

“ _Yes_.” Stern manages to gasp out as claws drag up his leg. 

“You super attached to these shorts?”

“No, why, oh I see, good lord that’s hot.” He whimpers as Barclay rips his shorts and boxer briefs off in one smooth motion. The Sylph flashes him a toothy grin before grabbing his knees and forcing them apart. Rough lips and a warm tongue make their way up his right inner thigh. 

“You have any idea how long I’ve wanted to suck you off while I’m like this?”

“Getting the sense it’s been a rather long tiiimme oh, oh god.” He presses his hips up as Barclays tongue finds his clit, only for two large hands to pin his hips to the bed. He tests his range of motion and finds Barclays grip is iron. The tongue swipes back and forth, teasing inside intermittently and every time it does Stern whines, desperate to have some part, any part, of Barclay inside him. The bed shakes and realizes Barclay is grinding against it, and the idea that eating him out drives the larger man that wild makes him moan. 

Eventually Barclay pulls back, kissing his way up Sterns stomach and chest until they’re face to face. 

“Goddamn I love doing that.” He tugs at Sterns shirt, “take this off and get on your hands and knees.”

Stern does as he told, feels an odd sensation as Barclays hands run along his ass. 

“Now, I don’t know what kind of ideas you had running around in that dirty mind of yours, but here’s how this is gonna go: I’m gonna start off nice and slow, make sure you can take it, then I’m gonna fuck you so hard it might break the bed.” Barclays voice is gentle but leaves no room for argument. 

“That’s, that’s about how I pictured it.”

“Not sure I believe you.” The head of his cock teases at Sterns entrance and he whines.

“Very well, it may have taken place outside rather than in a hotel.”

“Lucky.” The word is drawn out, making it clear Barclay still doesn’t believe him and Stern finally cracks.

“Alright, alright, I used to get off thinking about you, this form of you, pouncing on me when I was out on a stakeout, tearing my suit to shreds and fucking me so hard and fast I cried.”

“Oh _baby_ ” Barclays voice is far too calm and fond for someone who feels like he’s splitting Stern apart on just the head of his cock, “that’s the best thing anyone’s ever said about my Sylph form.

“Nnhhaa!” Is what Stern manages in response, fingers clinging to the blanket as Barclay slowly works his way in. He’s not sure if it’s the best thing he’s ever felt or if he’s going to die. 

“But I’m still gonna take it nice and easy at first. Can’t bear the idea of hurting you, all I wanna do is make you feel so good.” He leans forward, hands on either side of Sterns on the bed, and nuzzles the crook of his shoulder. Pushes his hips and gains another inch, then another and all Stern can do is take it, Barclays body a safe, strong cage around him.

Slowly, Barclay begins to move in and out, the drag of it intense enough that Stern buries his face against the pillows with a loud whimper. Barclay sits up and purrs.

“Mmmm, that’s a hell of a view.”

“W-what is?” He turns his head.

“Your ass, for starters, but I meant watching you take my cock. Like seeing how much of it you can handle, and how much of it don’t fit.”

“Someone a bit smug about his size?” Stern teases.

“Only thing I’m smug” he snaps his hips once, hard, and Stern yelps “about is those noises you’re making. Real gratifying babe.” 

Another sharp snap.

“And yeah, maybe I like how much bigger all of me is compared to you.”

Two snaps this time

“And the idea that you’re willing to take my cock even though it could fucking tear you apart. So maybe you were right, I’m smug about my size. But you know what you’re gonna do about that?”

“No. Oh OH fuck, shit, Barclay!” His face goes back into the pillows as Barclay moves faster and harder.

“That’s right, nothing, you just gonna fucking take as much of it as I wanna give you.”

He’s not wrong, Stern thinks, as he moans and curses into the bed. Barclays movements are rough, although he’s clearly taking care not to push to far and actually injure Stern. Still, the pressure is overwhelming, the pleasure more so, and so when Barclays teeth find his back and begin coating it in love bites, the sparks of pain short-circuit his brain. Dimly, he’s aware of himself begging for more and crying variations of the word “yes” into the pillows. 

The rough pad of a thumb finds his dick and he throws his head back with a yelp. Barclay takes that opportunity to bring his other arm around Sterns shoulders and chest, pulling him onto his knees only, his hands grabbing uselessly at air until they wrap onto Barclays arm. 

“C’mon, handsome, come for me.” The command is growled against his neck, and the sound sends Stern hurtling towards obeying it. His orgasm hits with a choked-out moan and his nails scratching against Barclays arm. 

He’s given no chance to come down, Barclay releasing his upper body to return both hands to his hips. He flops back onto the bed as Barclay pounds violently into him, grunts and growls coming in time with his thrusts.

“Fuck you feel so good, fit so tight, babe, you’ve no idea what, fuck, what you’ve started, gonna fuck you like this every day, gonna make it so you can’t fucking sit, gonna see how much come you can hold, godammn, fuck _fuck_ , Lucky.” As his name leaves Barclay with a rumbling moan the claws on his hips tighten and he whimpers at the pain even as he basks in it.

Soft, fuzzy kisses find his neck as warm breath pants against his skin. 

“You’re so fucking amazing.” Barclay murmurs, pulling out. Stern hisses at the movement, oversensitive, before collapsing. 

He’s rolled over onto his back, then onto his side, brings his head to rest against Barclays chest. 

“Well, agent, that satisfy your curiosity?”

“Yes, but I believe further research will be needed.”

“Think I can arrange that.” One paw strokes his hair and he sighs. 

“You know” he mutters sleepily, “I never thought that asking you to be my fake date would go so well.

“Yeah, gotta say I was pretty sure it would be a disaster. Glad it wasn’t.”

“Me too.” 

There’s an odd shift in reality and then his head is resting atop the less-furry chest of Barclays human form. 

“Sorry, could hear the bed frame starting to break.”

“Can’t have that.”

“No, we can’t because it’ll come out of my paycheck, and I need that money for other things.”

“Such as.”

Barclay rolls onto his side, embraces him and Stern returns the motion, sighing happily against him. 

“Such as taking my boyfriend out on dates.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Me neither, babe, me neither.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this lived up to the expectations of those who requested it! Next up will be a "Falling" one-shot.

**Author's Note:**

> Next up: Meet the Sterns!


End file.
